


11:11

by bluesandpaper



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Genie/Djinn, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter central, F/F, Mostly Fluff, angst? what's that, genie irene, maybe just a lil actually, model joy, musician wendy, photographer seulgi, slow burn? but also not?, wendy the hot mess but she'll get through it, yeri as teenage landlord
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:21:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 45,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27276364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesandpaper/pseuds/bluesandpaper
Summary: Seungwan is an up and coming indie musician, but her life is in disarray. Her best friend Kang Seulgi has just moved out. Her managers are calling wondering when she's going to come up with a new song. She needs to find someone to pay the other half of the rent for her apartment. In the midst of this frenzy, she tries to gain some semblance of order by redecorating, as any sane person with too many things to do would obviously do. Though originally seeking to find more typical decor in a regular furniture store, she sees signs pointing to a garage sale. There, she finds an ornate vase, one that definitely wouldn't fit in with her current interior design scheme, but magnetic nonetheless. She feels a strange pull towards it...
Relationships: Bae Joohyun | Irene/Son Seungwan | Wendy, Kang Seulgi/Park Sooyoung | Joy
Comments: 137
Kudos: 187





	1. Moving Out

**Author's Note:**

> I'm now posting this on AFF as well, so if you prefer that platform, check it out!

Looking at the cardboard boxes stacked near the entrance to the door, Seungwan couldn't help but feel a little wistful and apprehensive. Glancing around to make sure her best friend didn't leave anything behind in their shared home of the past two years, she rested her eyes on a photo frame of the pair left standing on the cabinet in the hallway leading to their door. The picture depicts Seulgi with frosting across her nose, Seungwan with a matching dollop of cream on her finger and painted across her cheek, both grinning ear to ear. Recalling the memory brings a soft smile to Seungwan's face, unwrinkling her furrowed brow as she recounts how Seulgi always relents to take pictures of people, but would never hesitate to take a shot of the two of them. 

"It's not like I'm dying, you know," Seulgi teases pointedly, breaking Seungwan out of her thoughts, "Now, are you going to help me find where I left my camera or not? It's not like it's the _most_ essential to my career, which also happens to be the whole _reason_ I'm moving out." 

"Maybe we shouldn't find it," Seungwan retorts, "That way, you wouldn't have to leave."

"Oh, Wannie," Seulgi sighs, her mischievous smirk giving way to a more gentle smile. "I tried reminding you that I'm not dying. My new place is only twenty minutes away! We could both take a ten minute drive and just meet in the middle whenever we want!"

Seeing Seungwan's frown relax, Seulgi goes back to rummaging through the mess on the couch. "I really should stop letting you toss your things everywhere Seungwan. It seems like my camera always gets swept up in the wind of your antics."

"Well, it's not like you have to worry about that anymore," Seungwan poses, much more lightheartedly.

Tossing aside a sweater Seungwan hasn't washed in days, Seulgi's lips purse slightly. "Honestly, I'm much more worried about what's going to happen with you than I am with myself. Firstly, you're going to need to find a new roommate ASAP, and secondly, you're going to need to figure out how to pay my half of the rent in the case you don't find one fast enough. I've already given the landlord my half for this month, so at least that's one thing less for you to worry about."

"At this point, I think I might just grab some random person off the street and force them to live with me," Seungwan jokes. 

"We can't have that! No stranger could take care of you like I could, and you know that!"

"That'll be their problem then," Seungwan smiles, before frowning again, "Meanwhile, I have to deal with the rest of this mess, literally and figuratively! My managers have been calling me wondering when I'm going to start writing more songs. I can't help that I'm in this huge rut and no amount of late nights spent with my guitar and a notepad can help me climb out of this hole!"

Gesturing towards their surroundings, and pointing more viciously in the direction of the singular striped sock on the TV stand, Seulgi huffs, "If there's any mess that you can start on, it's our living room."

" _My_ living room."

Flinging a scarf in Seungwan's direction, "Yes, _your_ living room, you big baby — Aha! Found it!" Seulgi exclaimed, pulling out her prized camera from underneath the blue t-shirt that has been missing from Seungwan's closet since last week. Cradling it within her hands as if it were her newborn child, Seulgi looks at the camera with all of the amazement she had when she first bought it.

"If you insist on only ever using that one camera, why do you misplace it so much?"

Offended, Seulgi pulls an incredulous look before launching into the same tirade Seungwan has heard so many times before, practically able recite the whole description of Seulgi's beloved camera after the sheer number of times she's gushed over its optics.

"It's _the_ Canon AE-1 model with 35 mm film! It automatically values the light and the selected shutter speed and..." Seulgi rambles, before slowly coming to a stop upon watching Seungwan confidently finish the statement for her, "...actuates the aperture to the correct f-stop on shutter release! I've heard this a thousand times, Seulbear."

"If you heard it so much, you'd know that it is a dream to work with, and I wouldn't trade it for a million bucks!"

"Even if I had a lethal disease and you needed a million bucks to save my life?"

Seulgi hesitates, looking back and forth between the camera and Seungwan. She shouts in shock, "What are you... how could you! Why would you hesitate when the answer is so obvious?" Seulgi's pout is enough of a response.

"I should just kick you out of this apartment right now."

"Not before I leave first!" Seulgi grins back at the exasperated Seungwan. "Anyway, that was everything I had left. Help me carry the boxes to the car?"

As Seungwan starts stacking boxes full of clothes and an assortment of odd vintage trinkets in her arms, she quips, "I'll make sure to drop every single one of them, Seul."

"Good thing I'm carrying my own camera then! Can't let you hurt Wendy," Seulgi replies, caressing the camera straps jokingly.

"I can't believe you named your stupid camera after me."

"Two of the most precious things in the world to me!"

Wendy rolls her eyes as she walks down the steps, "So much so that you can't even choose between the two of us if I were _dying_."

* * *

After shoving the boxes haphazardly in the trunk of Seulgi's old Kia Sorento, and what she calls, "An oldie, but a goodie" (which Seungwan had never heard in reference to cars before) Seungwan leans on the side as Seulgi clicks the door shut. "I guess our whole affair," Seungwan gesticulates vaguely, "ended as quickly as it began."

Seulgi chuckles, "You're talking about it as if we were a summer fling! I really don't think that would be able to define the two years we've spent in this apartment together, not to mention the ten years before that when we met in middle school!"

"Could've stuck around for a couple more," Seungwan says dejectedly.

"You know I would've if I could, Wannie." She reaches to brush Seungwan's bangs out of her eyes, before deciding instead to just ruffle her hair.

"Hey!" Seungwan swats at her newly ex-roommate's hands.

"As much as I would like to, I can't stay here forever. I've got to start moving forward in my career, finding new places, new things to shoot."

The musician smirks, "Even when you have a perfectly good model right here?" 

Seulgi walks to the driver's side, peering over the top of the car to reply, "You know you're not my type Seungwannie, and definitely not the type for my camera either!" She pauses, before taking on a more serious tone, "You know how I don't like to photograph people." She gets in, closing the door and rolling down the windows as the Seulgi patented megawatt smile returns to her face. "Got something to say before I leave your life forever Son Seungwan?"

"I'm going to miss you."

Seulgi moves the stick into drive, "Don't, I'll only ever be a call away!" Pressing down on the gas, her old car rumbles to a start. "But I'll miss you more," she says, smiling before driving away.

Seungwan watches as the car that has seen far too many hangovers and spontaneous midnight road trips rolls down the city street, before turning right and out of view. "Ah, that Kang Seulgi, always getting the last word."

Stumbling sadly up the steps back to their — wait, her — apartment, Seungwan stops at the top of the stairs to gaze across the skyline. It was sunset now, with orange and pink hues staining the sky, reflecting off skyscraper windows and casting the world in a golden glow. Thinking that Seulgi would've loved to take a final picture of this view, she smiles as she turns to enter their... no, her apartment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to this new story! It's an interesting AU isn't it? Though I know it's certainly not the most novel, I came up with the idea when I was awake and cold in the middle of the night : ( Well, at least a good thing came out of it!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and hope you stick around. This will have a main focus on the dynamic of Wendy and Irene, but I hope to explore all of the relationships of each of the characters in following chapters. This is going to be a long one, so I hope you'll tag along for the ride : ) 
> 
> Feel free to leave comments, constructive criticism and feedback in general is greatly appreciated!!


	2. Garage Sale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungwan searches for new decor.

Following a day of mourning spent lounging around and watching depressing kdramas after Seulgi's untimely departure, Seungwan figured that some reorganizing was in order. Seulgi's tastes had practically dominated their apartment for the entirety of the time that they were living together, and her tastes were... unique, to say the least. If the abstract painting of a frowning clown hanging on the wall beside their TV was to be any statement — if Seungwan were to guess what those dashes of primary colors were, that is — it could certainly attest to that fact. But before any redecorating could be done, she would have to start with the large pile of clothes strewn atop her couch. That, and the dirty dishes in the sink, the lonely sock of questionable origins on the TV stand, and the array of mismatched shoes in the rack by the door. Ah, the joys of adulthood.

Better get started then.

Her first order of business was to wash the dishes. She estimated that there were approximately ten dishes of various sizes stacked up in their kitchen sink, along with two matching mugs, and eleven chopsticks. Wait... eleven? Whatever, none of these oddly chosen pieces of tableware would escape the wrath of Seungwan with a scrubber anyway. After tearing up at the trashy suburban mom dish with an image of a bear and squirrel holding hands on it, one that Seulgi bought during a late night run at the dollar store and somehow convinced Seungwan that it represents the two of them ("Friends forever, even in the plate dimension!"), she finishes the dreaded dishes. She would say that she didn't do the worst job, a success in her eyes, but she thinks Seulgi could've done better. Dish duty was always Seulgi's after all... oh look, she's crying again.

After shooting another text consisting of just a sad face to Seulgi, she gathers herself enough to garner the physical energy necessary to grab the TV sock and toss it in the laundry bin. Yet, she still doesn't find the power in her to do the laundry just yet, settling for shoving the erratic assortment of clothes into the laundry bin along with their sock leader, dust mites marching unwillingly to their inevitable doom that will come in three days time when Seungwan finally decides to stop moping. In the meantime, however, they will have to settle for a life of darkness in the corner of her closet.

Grabbing her keys off the counter, Seungwan takes one look at the mismatched shoes before deciding that she no longer cares, grabbing a random pair of converses and cramming her feet into them. Her left shoe is just slightly too big for her, and looking down at the yellow canvas and the blue pen doodles along the seam, she can safely assume it's Seulgi's. Stifling her stupid sniffles, Seungwan exits her apartment, hoping that a furniture shopping spree would be enough to fill the void of Seulgi's absence.

* * *

Driving towards the nearest Ikea, where Swedish meatballs and unintelligible names like djungelskog would potentially heighten her sense of decor that she now realizes she so desparately lacks, Seungwan sees signs giving directions to a local garage sale. Deciding that Ikea is too good, and too expensive for her anyway, she follows the arrows to a bizarre looking house in the middle of the cul de sac. The roof was the most garish shade of pink she had ever seen, and the grandma manning the front yard had the most audacious pink shawl to match. Maybe Seungwan should've just gone to Ikea.

About to pull a U-turn, the grandma spots Wendy eyeing the goods from her car, getting up from her lawn chair and ambling toward her car all whilst vigorously waving her down.

”Hello young lady, here for the garage sale?”

Not one to say no to nice, albeit eccentric elderly women, Seungwan replies as she exits her car, "Yes, have any good deals?”

”I'd say everything here is a good deal, and maybe we could get a discount for a pretty young lady such as you." Seungwan, unused to compliments for people of her own age let alone old strangers, merely smiled in thanks and proceeded to browse.

Although she had never been to a garage sale before, she couldn't help but think that the collection of items was atypical of the everyday event. Certainly, none of these St. Bernard dog statuettes and tea cups with purple leaping frog designs would serve as improvements to Seungwan's current surroundings. She already had her fair share of odd decor (or as Seulgi would call it, acquired taste), but the point of coming here was to get rid of that junk. The clown painting was the only thing she wished to leave in memory of Seulgi's horrible design sense. Stick to photos, Seulgi.

After spotting a towel with a teddy bear embroidered near the seam. Feeling a little guilty over all her internal complaints about her best friend, Seungwan immediately purchased it. The cute little bear reminded her of her all too cute Seulbear, but she'd never admit that out loud. Thinking that that would be her best find in this witch shop thinly disguised as a yard sale and eager to return home to a bath and a new towel, Seungwan started toward her car.

But she must have whipped around far too fast in her excitement, nearly knocking over an ornate vase which was strangely distinct from the rest of the trinkets. It was a whole foot and a half of porcelain, with gold leaf adorning the details of the engravings, patterns of frolicking bunnies climbing the handles. It looked to be painted in some eighteenth century Rococo style, clearly a piece of some past era, yet somehow in perfect condition. This vessel was far too sophisticated to be found with the likes of the other Anthropology rejects littering the table. It was beyond the scope of the typical yard sale, beyond the scope of Seungwan's interior design sense, and definitely beyond her budget, yet she found herself curiously drawn to it. 

She's already made one impulse buy, another one can't hurt.

“Ah, the antique vase,” the old lady says, approaching Seungwan, “I think you'll find many more uses for it than you initially believe.”

”Yes, I'm sure I can use it for flowers, or water, or...”

”You're thinking too simply. Buy it and find out that your wildest dreams will come true.”

Though that was the weirdest sales pitch she's ever encountered, second only to the sales pitch Seulgi gave her concerning the bear squirrel china plate, Seungwan bought the vase anyway. Her wallet was severely thinned from the impact of a missing two hundred dollars, but if this piece were truly as valuable as her untrained eye could estimate, it would've been well worth the expense (at least, that's how Seungwan chose to rationalize this poor decision). Shoving her towel into the mouth of the vase to more easily carry it to her car, she opened the passenger door and secured it with a seatbelt. That'll have to do.

* * *

Back at her apartment, Seungwan sets the vase down on the cabinet in the entrance. She couldn't justify why Seulgi chose to put it there, but found it awfully convenient at times when she felt like her arms could not withstand any more carrying. It used to be filled with all of Seulgi's camera equipment, convenient for when she had to grab her materials and go, but was now empty. Seungwan thought this was a good a place as any to throw her new eighteenth century vase. Pulling out the teddy bear towel, only slightly perplexed as to how it all fit in, she sneezed as a plume of dust erupted. Damn, this centuries old vase has centuries of dust in it. To hell with using the new towel then, it must be covered in the ashes of Marie Antoinette. Since she would have to clean both eventually, Seungwan knocked out two birds with one stone by starting to wipe down the vase with the Seultowel but... it started... shaking? 

...Why would a vase shake like that?

Seungwan reached to hold it down, but not before it shook so vigorously that it rattled itself off the table, thankfully resilient enough to not crack. As it rolled along the floor, it emitted a pink cloud of smoke, throwing glitter and a pungent lavender scent — in all directions. She didn't have enough emotional capacity to comprehend what witchcraft was occurring, with the only thought on her mind being what a mess it would be to clean this all up later, and what a tragedy it was to have ruined all of her plans for using that new bath bomb Seulgi gave her last week.

As soon as the smoke dissipates, and as soon as Seungwan stops wanting to break down, the most beautiful girl she had ever seen stood in the middle of her living room. If she wasn't convinced that the vase was magical before, she was sure about it now. Any girl other than Seulgi being present in her apartment was a very rare occurrence that only magic could bring about.

In stark contrast to the stunning visual effects display that she had just presented, the appearance of the girl was a tad bit underwhelming. With no prior experience with the supernatural, Seungwan did not have many expectations for the appearance of a magical girl, but _if_ she had any, she didn't think this girl surpassed them. Her basic knowledge of the story of Aladdin told her that this girl must be some sort of genie, but Seungwan was left bewildered. Where was the opulent genie uniform, if they even had one? Where were the gold bangles and the sheer sleeves? Also, shouldn't she be like a century old? The girl in front of her, although with beauty far beyond that of any human she knew, was frankly, much more regular than the musician would have assumed. Standing in a simple white cardigan and jeans, black hair hanging loosely down her back, Seungwan starts questioning if she hallucinated the whole display and this stranger didn't just walk in through the front door like a normal, nonmagical individual. The only thing out of the ordinary about her appearance was a silver bracelet tightly wrapped around her left wrist, with intricate engravings of what looked to be a foreign, ancient script. After looking her up and down, Seungwan's eyes rested on the genie's face, realizing that she... wait, was she glaring at her?

"You don't look very surprised to see a genie appear in front of you," She said, tone biting with sarcasm.

Seungwan sputters, "Oh, no, I'm definitely very very surprised, in more ways than one. I just don't know what to make of this whole situation. There's far too much stuff going on in my life, I have to clean up all this dust, do the laundry, contact my managers, and now a genie is here and I am really really stressed and I—"

She was stopped by the sensation of a finger pressed on her lips. 

"I'll have you know, pretty young lady, that you have completely uprooted my life too!" the genie said, exasperated. "You would think that after finding such an ornate, antique, and _valuable_ vase, you wouldn't simply shove a towel down it, barely fasten a seatbelt to keep it secure, and nearly knock it over upon first finding it! That might just be a pretty table centerpiece to you, but that is a house to me! All of your shenanigans have completely rearranged my furniture and sent me in the worst thirty minute ride of my life spent dodging a swinging towel and trying to desperately right my sliding furniture!" 

Seungwan barely caught all of those complaints. "Pretty? Did you just call me pretty?"

The genie huffs. "Clearly," she drawled out, the dissatisfaction prominent in her tone, "You were much more surprised than you let on because you are not processing a single thing I am saying right now. To think a century of life could've prepared me for this. I think I'm not yet ready to serve such a reckless master. Let's hope that your brain starts catching up soon enough, because I have many rules to cover." Seungwan can only muster a weak nod in affirmation.

"Good, so I suppose that wasn't the most excellent introduction, but it's not every day that I find a new master, so here we go," she says, before positioning herself into a polite bow, a much more subservient and obedient contrast to her initial outburst. She begins reciting, "I am Irene, a genie, and your eternal servant so long as you may have me. Your every wish is my command." 

Seungwan just stood in awe. An eternal servant... she didn't think she had enough money to compensate this genie for that long. Noticing her lack of a reply, Irene continued, "Well, that is the introduction we are all commanded to say," taking on a more mocking tone, she imitates, "Good customer service is at the forefront of Genie Incorporated's policies!" 

"Genie Incorporated? So, you're like a corporate employee genie or something?"

"You could say that... The whole genie operation is a little more complicated than you humans think these days. For one, I'm not even a full genie. There hardly exists a single pureborn these days, as a result of so many genies in our lineage falling in love with their human masters and diluting our magic. Nothing wrong with that, of course. I myself have a human father and a genie mother. At this point, I would say that I'm only about a quarter genie, but that is, apparently, high enough of a percentage to grant me all-services-paid access to a very _long_ life full of fulfilling wishes." She pauses, "Normally I wouldn't talk this much, but it seems like there is a lot for you to understand and not nearly enough brain cells in that head of yours to comprehend it."

Seungwan recoils slightly, sighing sadly, "I have brain cells..."

"Sure you do. Have enough to ask any questions?"

Choosing to ignore the obvious sarcasm, Seungwan finds that she does have enough brain cells to ask something. "So on the whole wish thing, how does it work? Do I only get three total, like in Aladdin, and are there restrictions on the things I can wish for because I certainly have a lot of wishes. You know what maybe I could start wishing for my laundry to be done or I could wish for —"

Seungwan is interrupted by Irene's interjection, "I'm going to stop you right there. The whole three wishes thing only really applied to the ancient genies who had enough power to grant any wish possibly conceived, and thus found it necessary to limit the power of their masters. Now, we have more restrictions on what we can grant by proxy of our reduced magical capabilities. That being said, there is a plus side. The bonus is that because we end up granting smaller wishes, you get a lot more of them. Three per day to be exact."

"Wow, and if I live a long time, that must be like..." Seungwan starts trying to multiply days and wishes in her head, quickly giving up once she reaches her third zero, "...a lot!"

Rolling her eyes, Irene replies, "Glad to see you have some semblance of functioning neurons. You're probably interested in hearing what the restrictions are before you start wishing for things that I can't grant. Listen closely, because I will not repeat myself. There are five rules.

First, you cannot wish for more wishes. That shouldn't be a problem, as you already have more than enough.

Second, you cannot wish to make someone fall in love with you. We're genies, not cupids.

Third, you cannot wish for eternal life. Us genies aren't even immortal.

Fourth, as more of a magical restriction, if you wish for material things, they cannot exceed the value of one thousand dollars per day.

Fifth, you cannot wish for someone's death. We are not your personal glorified hitman. Got everything?"

Seungwan pinched herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming. "Ow! Uh, yes, yes, I think I got everything."

Irene just exhales, "Now to settle things on my end. To officially become my master, you must kiss this bracelet and seal our contract." She raises her left arm with the unfamiliar engravings that Seungwan marveled at earlier.

She stutters, "K-kiss? Why would I have to do that?"

"Some stupid ancient rule. Don't worry about it," Irene smirks, "It's not like you're going to make out with my wrist." She presents Seungwan with her hand.

"And if I didn't?"

"Just kiss the stupid bracelet."

She couldn't devise a way to escape this situation and wanted to avoid possibly incurring the wrath of a genie who was already quite mad with her, so she gently took Irene's wrist and leaned down, pressing her lips to the cold silver. The engravings glowed blue, lines of the script filling up with what seemed to be a renewed magical power. Irene quickly retracted her hand from Seungwan's grasp, averting her eyes. "It is sealed. I am at your service."

“So what now?” Seungwan questioned, unsure of where to even start with this whole ordeal.

“First things first, I need a new place to stay. The towel tornado that whipped through my old abode...” Irene glances at the vase on the floor, “... did not leave the place in livable conditions.”

“I have a spare room,” Seungwan offers. “Seulgi, er, my best friend, just moved out. Her room is free now, but you might want to do something about the decor. I don’t think she would be mad about what you choose to do with the place since she won’t be staying here anymore.” She starts down the hallway, giving Irene a brief tour of the place. "To the right is your bathroom, to the left is where you'll be staying, and the door down the hall leads to my bedroom. Make yourself at home. For now..." Seungwan turns away, heading toward her own door, "I just need a nap." She rushed into her room, flopping herself onto her bed and shutting her eyes, exhausted from the day's events. She didn't have time to even think about the repercussions of letting this powerful supernatural being stay in her home, but she figures that if she were ever to be murdered in her sleep, century-old genie would be an interesting way to go. With thoughts of what she should wish for on her mind, she falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And in enters Genie Irene! Hopefully the first chapter wasn't too boring for you guys. I wanted to introduce her in the first chapter, but we needed just a little bit more exposition. This one is quite a bit longer, but at least we're here now!


	3. Getting to Know the Genie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungwan settles in with the genie.

Three quick raps on the door. Seungwan shifts in her slumber. Another three knocks provoke a groan, but no significant movement. Seungwan bolted upright at the final three slams, likely a much more fitting word to describe the way Irene was pummeling the door. Still half asleep, and definitely very grumpy, she trudged to the door to confront the transgressor. 

Swinging her door open, she catches Irene off guard. Standing there with her hand still raised, presumably in position to incite another series of impossibly strong knocks from someone of her size, Irene brings her hand down to her side. 

"What do you want?" Seungwan grumbles. 

"Thought I should wake you up for dinner."

Seungwan's eyes widen, visibly becoming more alert with Irene's statement. Surprised, she says, "Did I hear that right? Did you make me dinner?"

The corner of her mouth quirks up. "Now I didn't say that..." 

As Seungwan sighs, reaching to slam the door shut, Irene stops her. "It would be hard to cook anything when you don't have a single ingredient in your fridge. I opened it only to find a pineapple, a loaf of bread — who even puts bread in the fridge by the way — two tomatoes, and a lot of oranges. And that is no exaggeration, it's a whole shelf full and far more oranges than a single person would be expected to own.” She starts walking toward the kitchen, making a nearly imperceptible hand gesture beckoning Seungwan to follow, continuing, “I know that you lived with your best friend, which just leaves me with more questions. I have _no_ idea how idea you two survived. No wonder she wanted to leave so quickly, she must've starved every day. Either that, or managed to subsist only on a large supply of oranges."

Walking languidly after her, Seungwan comments, "She was the one who bought almost everything in there." She stops, furrowing her brow in confusion, "But I have absolutely no idea why she would get that many oranges. She doesn't even like them!" Seungwan throws up her hands in an exaggerated display of bewilderment, before quieting down in realization. "I'm the only one who likes them." 

Irene interrupts her before she gets too emotional, "Surely you don't like them enough to have that many. Actually, I think your 'Seulbear' left a note on the huge box of oranges for you. At least she has the sense to give an explanation, but obviously not enough sense to stop her from turning her wallet inside out for the sake of leaving an edible parting gift." She opens the fridge door as Seungwan grabs a chair from their island, taking a seat. Pulling the yellow post-it-note off the box, she slaps it on Seungwan's cheek, breaking her out of her storm of muddled thoughts. Seungwan doesn't have the strength to protest, simply peeling the sticky note off her face, more interested in what Seulgi left behind anyway. 

With characteristically cute, lopsided, and extremely tiny letters scribbled out in green ink, the note reads:

"Hey Wannie! I had to run some errands and grab some new film before I left, and I happened to see all these oranges on sale! Not sure why, they look perfectly fine to me, but I thought you would like them! Maybe you can sink your teeth into them and make orange smiles, like you used to whenever I was down. I know you'll need to smile once I'm gone anyway~~ 

\- Your Seulbear : )

P.S. Maybe if you get a new roommate, you can share! I think I bought way too many for one person, even if you like them that much."

Irene shoves a peeled orange into Seungwan's hand before she can even make a move to refuse. "You're frowning too much. That's the opposite of what your friend wanted. Now here," The genie slides a slice into Seungwan's gaping mouth, earning a response of muffled questions, "Do the thing she was talking about."

Seungwan has half a mind to just spit out the orange, but it tastes surprisingly sweet for being on sale, and she's afraid that another thought about her ex-roommate would cause her to cry for the fifth time that week. Instead, she takes the safer option that doesn't threaten the wrath of a genie, who stands across from her, arms crossed in patient amusement. Biting down to hold the orange in place and replacing her teeth with the juicy sensation, she does her best sunshine grin.

Irene bursts out laughing, doubling over and clutching her abdomen as if her appendix just burst. With the amount of wheezing she was doing, she could fool Seungwan into believing that was the case. Attempting to stifle her boisterous laugh to no avail, but managing to suppress it to a chuckle, Irene talks through bouts of laughter, "Now I get what that Seulbear was saying! Seeing you make such a fool of yourself is really a sight to behold. One second it's Ms. Frowny and the next second it's Ms. 'I have an orange in my mouth and I'm going to pretend it's dentures!' Classic, classic."

Having watched the whole display while trying to get the bits of orange fibers out from between her teeth, she swallows, responding, "If it works, it works! I would do it all the time whenever Seulgi came back home exhausted from her long walks or shoots. As smiley as she is sometimes, I can always tell when she needs cheering up. You, on the other hand, I don't really get. What you would need cheering up from?"

Irene stills, letting silence empty the room that was previously full of her laughter. Seungwan tenses up slightly, wondering what serious blunder she has now committed.

"I could go into another rant about all of the grand disruptions that you have brought into my life, but I'm afraid I would kill you and lose the only place I have to stay at the moment." She shuffles, smiling slightly, as if to offset the dagger eyes she was previously shooting in Seungwan's direction. Seungwan was pinned, hands paused in their trajectory of bringing another orange slice to her mouth. Irene leans over the island, snatching the dangling slice and swiftly dropping it into her mouth. Seungwan just pouts. Eyes gleaming with her small success, Irene tilts her head to the side. "Don't be a crybaby. There's fifty more of these where that came from, but I won't peel them for you this time.” That elicits an even bigger pout from Seungwan. "Now that we've had a nice snack, I'm still starving. I woke you up for dinner so let's whip something up!"

"How are you going to cook with the sad state of the fridge?" Seungwan asks, swallowing the last remnants of the orange.

"The question is not how am _I_ going to cook, but rather, what will _you_ be wishing for?"

Wow, a question for a question. Two can play at that game. Seungwan thinks for a moment, before replying with a question of her own, "You're really going to make me waste a wish on dinner when I could just order take out?"

"And did I ever force you to make a wish?"

"Did you think that your heavy insinuation slipped past me?"

"Ok, ok, enough, enough you bickering baby. If you don't want to 'waste' a wish, you don't have to, but it _is_ an option. After seeing the notes by the house phone, it looks like Seulgi does all of the ordering anyway. Just thought that it was funny that you can't even muster up the courage to successfully order takeout and yet here you are throwing haughty retorts to a genie."

"How do you even know that it's her handwriting? You've been around here for only..." Seungwan glances at the clock, "... six or so hours."

"Here's some more genie 'lore' for you, as the youth call it these days." Irene begins, with Seungwan fighting an internal battle with herself in order to suppress her rising laughter. "When we sealed the contract, I gained a lot of information about you. These background details help make our job much easier in terms of properly answering the wishes to precise specifications, even if you don't even know what you want. For example, I know that your birthday is February 21st, that your favorite color is blue, who your friends are, which isn't a lot, just Seulgi."

"I don't know how I feel about you knowing more information about me than even my best friend."

"Oh trust me, she still knows much more. Though I may be able to recall who your crush was back in the 3rd grade, most of this exposition is not enough for me to gain comprehensive insight into your character. I'm still lacking many details about your personality, though I think I'm finding that you are even more of a dork than all of this has already told me. A member of the baking club... I didn't think you could've been any worse than my preconceptions, but here we are. I suppose it will all be repaired once I get you to bake me a cake."

"First, we will never — and I mean _never_ talk about Jessica. That was embarrassing, more than a decade ago, and something I had worked very hard to forget about until you, just now, ruined all of my efforts! Second, I'll just wish for one and save all the effort. I only bake cakes for people I like,” She huffs, crossing her arms in a weak form of defiance.

"Seems like that long nap restored your backbone. Care to use it to sit up straight and finally wish for some dinner?"

Seungwan realizes the ugly slouch she has been sitting in, straightening up and clearing her throat, “So how do these work, do I just think of a wish and poof! Or...”

”Not exactly, it requires, at least, minimal effort on your end to verbalize your wishes. Just start with 'I wish' followed by whatever you are wishing for. It's not rocket science, so I'm sure that even you could understand what to do."

Unimpressed, and quickly growing tired of Irene's snark, Seungwan executes her first command, ”I wish for a better genie.”

”Sorry, can't do that. We're together until death do us part,” Irene frowns slightly, escaping Seungwan's notice, “Or until you decide you don't need me anymore,” She poses, tone lightening toward the end, tilting the conversation in a more playful direction than the statement at face value would suggest.

Not too fond of the idea of being married to Irene for the rest of her life, but much more fond of quieting her ever-growing stomach growls, Seungwan makes a more realistic wish, ”I wish for a nice dinner.”

”Vague, but fine. Your wish is my command.”

With the snap of her fingers, two plates of what looked to be her mom's special recipe of delicious tteokbokki appeared in front of Seungwan. The smell of the spice wafted through the apartment, reminding Seungwan of the days when she'd return home from a bad day at school and rush to hide in her room, only to find the scent of her mom preparing this comfort food lingering in the vents. She felt that every time she dug into the dish, her worries melted away. Watching her facial expression shift and soften, Irene smiled. Becoming more sentimental by the minute, Seungwan spoke in a gentle tone, almost whispering, ”How... how did you know?”

”Know what?” Irene looked away in feigned ignorance, trying to wipe the pleased expression off of her own face.

”This is what my mom makes me whenever I'm stressed. It's just what I needed right now.”

Taking a seat in front of the plate across from Seungwan, Irene shrugged. “Another thing about genies, and something crucial to our jobs, is that we have a keen sense of desire above all else. Once our contract was sealed, I was granted access to your deepest wishes and wants.”

Only slightly more concerned at this obvious breach of privacy, yet much more invested in the tteokbokki, Seungwan takes a bite and jokes, “Maybe you should start having your clients sign a terms of service contract. I feel like there was a lot of fine print I wasn't aware of.”

“As if you would've read it all,” Irene challenges. She pauses, as if deciding whether or not to say her following statement before continuing, “You're a lot more fun when you banter back like this. I think I'll have to re-evaluate my first impression of you as a stuttering dolt."

Seungwan focuses on the more positive side of that comment. ”Haven't heard the word dolt used since the sixth century, but thank you. I've had a lot of practice with Seulgi and I's constant back and forths,” Seungwan brightens, “Speaking of changing impressions, you seem a little nicer than yesterday. Obviously you still make fun of me at every opportunity, but you're much less...” Seungwan searches for a proper word, “...angry, I suppose?”

“Well I'm still not very pleased about the state of my home, but I've settled in quite well. Your roommate had a nice room, didn't expect that she would have a balcony. I spent the time you were out redecorating in order to make it more comfortable.”

”Didn't know that a balcony could change your attitude so radically. Seems like it's not enough of an explanation as to why you'd be nicer to me, though,” Seungwan smirks, hoping to coax an answer out of the currently, and perhaps rarely, friendly genie. Hopefully, she's not pushing her luck or the patience of Irene, both of which seem to be intimately related at present.

“Perhaps you're right. If you would prefer, I'll revert to my initial impression of you right now.”

Seungwan flusters, sincerely hoping that she did not just ruin all of the progress she thought she made with the cold girl. “No, no that's not what I meant. I just wanted to know what I've done to change your mind, that's all.”

”To be honest,” Irene teases, “You haven't done much.”

”What was it then? Was it the all-inclusive knowledge of my past, because I'm not sure why that would ever make you like me more.”

“Warmer. It wasn't necessarily the isolated facts about you that reshaped my perceptions. Those are still too superficial and unconnected for me to form the best idea of who you are. Your desires, however, seem to reveal much more about you.”

Seungwan stabs at her food, slightly nervous as to what Irene could have discovered. The girl was unaware about her own deepest desires as it was, and knowing that Irene had so intimate an understanding of what she truly wanted made her anxious. Noticing her growing discomfort, Irene eased her concerns. “You're different. Different than my other masters, that is. While they all had soaring ambitions and avarice, you don't have those same desires. Of course you still have your own goals, but they seem more humble, more realistic. You just want to be recognized for your singing, your music, your talent. You want to bring joy to others, even in the quiet recesses of your heart. One of your desires is for Seulgi to be happy, even though you would be rightfully disappointed that she's leaving you so suddenly. Oh, and there's one last one. You want to fall in love.”

The shorter sputters, feeling spice crawl up her throat. She was already plenty surprised at seeing all of her secret wishes laid out like the pages of a magazine people leave out on their coffee tables, but seeing Irene flip straight to page six put her over the edge. As she always does to conceal her embarrassment, likely unsuccessfully, Seungwan resorts to humor. “Ah, yes, I like to sing, I love my best friend, and I've been single all my life! What great reasons to like a person.”

”You don't get it,” Irene says, a bit dismal, “You're humble. You're selfless. You're loving. Those are indeed _great_ reasons to like someone. You're not a genie like I am, and you haven't seen the range of humanity like I have. The things that they ask for seek far more than just contentment. Even now, for dinner, your heart didn't ask for a decadent, prime-cut steak and the world's finest wine for refreshment. It just asked for a taste of home.”

Seungwan wasn't ready for a psychoanalysis of her character, feeling as though she understood herself even less after Irene's depiction. “You're praising me too highly.”

Irene's eyes speak with more disappointment than her words do. “You value yourself too lowly.”

Seungwan gets up from the table, carrying over their plates to the sink, which had been emptied over the course of their conversation. She directs a subdued smile at Irene. “Go ahead and rest up, I'll handle the clean up. Though I don't know what to make of this whole situation yet, I'm glad to know you don't detest me.”

Irene lightens the mood with her response. “I could never detest anyone who volunteers to do the dishes,” She grins, leaving toward her new room. “If you come up with another wish, just knock. I'll be out on the balcony.”

She focuses on the soap bubbles to distract herself from the thoughts sloshing around in her head like the water she's using to rinse the glass in her hand. Here Seungwan was, unwittingly baring herself to a near stranger. She feels that she's broken some of the ice between them, but wonders at the cost, wonders at how far they could go. Was there a boundary between master and genie that one couldn't cross? If there was, has she already crossed it? She scrubs away the questions as she scrubs away the sauce stains on the plate. 

* * *

Irene hears a knock on her door, approaching it hesitantly before opening it. “Here for another wish?”

”No, just a request, if you don't mind. Not one for Irene the genie, but just...” Seungwan thinks about the proper phrasing, “... Irene the roommate.”

Intrigued, Irene replies in affirmation. “Sure, what do you need?”

”Mind if I just hung out with you on the balcony? We don't have to talk, it's just — it's just that Seulgi and I would always watch the view of the city lights when I start to get too withdrawn into my own thoughts.”

Instead of replying, Irene just steps aside to let Seungwan walk in, and through the sliding door to the balcony. It wasn't the largest, as the property value would've been far too expensive for Seungwan and Seulgi to afford, but it was reasonably sized enough to be comfortable. It was clearly designed for only one person in mind, so in the past, the pair of best friends would squeeze in, leaning into each other to save more space. Seungwan didn’t think about the proximity before her sudden request, having to settle for brushing her elbows against Irene's every time they shifted. Somehow, it was just as comfortable.

They stood there in the cold night air, gazing as the streets lit up with the yellows and reds of cars going by, watching the traffic lights shift from green, to yellow, to red. Store fronts shut down their lights, employees locking up their doors, grabbing their bags, and heading home. People walked by on their phones, smiling as they texted loved ones that they would return soon. There were even couples, holding hands and wrapping jackets around each other, blowing hot breaths that visibly mingled, suspended in the air of the chilly evening.

From their spot on the balcony, the two didn't make comments on what they saw, preferring to soak it all in. They acted as if they thought that a single word might shatter the beautiful, delicate atmosphere they had surrounded themselves in. When the last car had whizzed by, and the streets were finally void of the bustling individuals and rumbling engines, Seungwan stepped back inside their apartment wordlessly. Only after making it into the hallway did Seungwan dare to speak. “Thank you, and goodnight.” Irene just nodded, turning back to look at the stars. Even after centuries of watching the constellations shift, she couldn't help but feel that they glowed slightly brighter on this night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just started writing this chapter with absolutely no idea of what direction it was headed, only with the feeling that I would like to start writing something. Fingers crossed that it turned out alright! Thank you to those of you who left comments, they motivate me to keep writing! Feel free to keep them coming : )


	4. Spring is Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Facing greater pressure from management to get back to work, Seungwan needs to pull inspiration from an unconventional source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you look at that, I'm putting some notes at the beginning! I just wanted to provide a few song recommendations for when you're reading this chapter! These are songs that I was listening to while writing this, and I just felt like they fit the mood. I like indie rock, so if that's not your taste, feel free to listen to whatever else you want! In order, listen to "I Wanna Love You" by Just Friends, "Metamodernity" by Vansire, "Spring is Here" by Frank Sinatra (during the specific part... you'll see), "Strawberry Afternoons" by Lonely Benson, "Figure 8" by Peach Pit, and then finally, “Crane Song” by TOLEDO. I probably didn't map out the time properly, so listen to them how you like : )
> 
> (As a side note, if anyone notices a change, I changed the chapter title from Desperational Inspiration to Spring is Here. Vibed a little more with the latter.)

The world's most annoying marimba ringtone resounded through the apartment. Seungwan knew who was calling immediately: management. Somewhat despairing, and very reluctant, Seungwan let the horrible ringtone loop three times before she picked up.

"Seungwan," Manager Kim's deep voice filtered through the speakers.

"Yes?" Seungwan answered with a lilt, appearing to be innocent to the intentions of the call.

"Don't use that voice with me, Seungwan. We've worked together for too long for you to fool me at this point."

The jig was up. She sighed, "I know, I know... you need another song. I've listened to all of the voicemails you've left."

"After the success you received with your last album, the fans are starting to get more anxious as to what you'll produce next. That, and the company does need to see you rake in more revenue. You know that I truly appreciate your talent amongst all of our artists, but we are a business at the end of the day."

Seungwan thinks to all of the late nights she's spent with melodies swimming in her head, but no way to resolve them, and no lyrics materializing to accompany them. "Yes, yes, I understand. I've just been lacking inspiration these days."

"Suffering from a break up?"

Caught off guard, Seungwan nearly spits into her phone's microphone, "Manager Kim! Why would you say that?"

"Just thought that if all you write is love songs, you might've lost your muse," He chuckles. "Jokes aside, we need some sort of demo or lyrics by next week. Luckily, you might find a new partner by then, or at least go on a date."

Seungwan grabs the nearest piece of paper and starts crumpling it next to the receiver, "Oh? What's that?" The awkward sounds of rustling continue, "I think you're breaking up Manager Kim! I really need to pay my phone bill soon!"

Only laughs are heard in response. "Just get it done, Seungwan. I look forward to hearing what you come up with." The line goes dead.

Seungwan's phone hangs in the air next to her ear, stunned to silence, her head churning with ideas for new excuses. Maybe she had a dental appointment where the dentist accidentally dropped a drill down her throat and she has been recovering in the hospital for the whole week. No, then that would mean she couldn't sing again. Perhaps she was walking down the street with her guitar when a biker ran into her, leading her to smash the instrument into the sidewalk. Hmm, not that either, the company would've just replaced the guitar and forced her to start writing again. Seungwan's eyes light up. She has a rare disease and the doctor told her that only has seven days left to live! Who would waste their time writing songs when they're going to die? Seungwan wouldn't. 

Irene leans on the edge of the hallway, watching as Seungwan paces back and forth in a frenzy, as if devising the plans for the next atomic bomb. "I can see your desire to avoid writing this song grow greater by the minute, Seungwan."

Snapped out of her brainstorm of horrible excuses, she turns to look at the genie, the edges of her lips raising in realization. "Think a wish will do the trick?"

"What kind of wish?"

"Maybe I could wish for a hit song to magically appear." Seungwan looks ecstatic at this brilliant idea she has just conjured.

Irene feels guilty for bursting Seungwan's bubble. "Sorry to kill the mood, but there's a bit of a technicality. Remember how I said that you could only wish for material things with a cap of a thousand dollars in monetary value? A song, technically, is included in the category of material things. Unless you want a hit song that is only worth a thousand dollars in revenue, then unfortunately, I can't provide it." Irene's usually stoic expression is replaced by a genuine smile. "Besides, I think you are perfectly capable of conjuring music on your own. You've done it all these years without the need of magic."

Seungwan tries to think of any other number of wishes that would allow her to avoid her dreaded writer's block, but fails to come up with any idea that doesn't gravely injure a producer or manager or seriously undermine her artistic integrity. It looks like she'll have to write this song after all, yet she still needs a new source of inspiration. She remembers the conversation she had with her manager. "Go on a date..." She half whispers, audibly thinking to herself.

"Oh, you have a date?"

"No, no. No one's asked me, and I have no idea who would even want to... Wait." Seungwan's eyes grow mischievous. She says with a degree of finality, "I wish for you to go on a date with me."

Irene sputters, "You wish for what now?"

Seungwan states again, with a little less confidence and a little more embarrassment, "I wish for you to go on a date with me."

"Do I get to ask why?"

"In short, I really need inspiration for my next song."

"And, let me get this straight, you need to go on a _date_ , and even more specifically, _with me_?" Irene probes, incredulous.

Looking down at her twiddling thumbs to mask the growing anxiety from showing on her face, Seungwan answers, "Well, yes. I don't really have anyone else to ask. It was just a suggestion from my manager, and I'm out of all other ideas."

"If you're certain, your wish is my command."

"No snapping this time?"

"It doesn't take magic for me to go on a date with you," Irene starts walking back to her room, responding without turning back to look at Seungwan. "Now go get ready before I change my mind."

Left bewildered, and pleasantly surprised at the ease of Irene's agreement, the weight of her actions suddenly presses down upon Seungwan's shoulders. She hasn't dated anyone for months. Now, not only does she have to remember how to be a functioning human being, but a functioning, _romantic_ human being. Added to her list of complications is that she also has to plan a whole date within the span of the next thirty minutes. She really screwed herself over with this one. Better this than get fired, she supposes.

Serving as a convenient distraction, Seungwan's phone buzzes. 

"Seulbear~ 

There's a really cool fair that just opened downtown! Want to go some time this week? I heard they had a whole Ferris wheel, and not one of those dinky ones like, it's huge!!!"

Kang Seulgi, beacon in the darkest of times, savior of Seungwan's career, you are a genius! Slightly ashamed at having to blow off her best friend, Seungwan texted back a reply, "Sorry Seul, I have a date!" Thousands of questions start flooding her inbox, all of which Seungwan doesn't feel like answering right now. She had no idea how to get around to explaining that she has a new roommate, who happens to be a genie, and also happens to be going on a date with her. Seulgi's mind would simply explode, and Seungwan did not particularly feel in the mood to be washing brain bits out of Seulgi's new carpet. Finally, with a destination in mind, despite the idea being stolen from her now poor, neglected Seulbear, Seungwan has the new mission of choosing something to wear. Sure, it was a spontaneous and certainly not serious date, but she would be damned (by the threat of Irene's displeasure) if she did not at least put in the good ol' reliable Seungwan patented effort.

* * *

Walking towards her car, Irene in tow, Seungwan's hands start getting clammy. Just now, looking at Irene in that loose button up and jeans, she never thought that anyone could make casual look so good. She must've spent far too much time bickering with her rather than marveling at the genie's beauty, and all of those missed opportunities to stare were catching up to Seungwan. Though Seungwan thought she cleaned up well, even making sure to grab the nice leather jacket that had been wasting away in her closet, she still had an inkling feeling that Irene was out of her league. (She would've had been deluded to believe that a genie with two centuries more of experience would have ever been in her league to begin with.)

Irene was of a different opinion. She was fully aware of her effect on others, but still found that the way Seungwan shifted her gaze uncomfortably to avoid openly gaping at her, a dust of pink decorating her ears, was, for lack of a better or more fitting term, cute. 

"What?" Seungwan asked, tone full of surprise.

Damn. Clearly, two centuries worth of experience meant absolutely nothing if she can't even avoid subconsciously expressing her thoughts out loud. Stupid thoughts. She felt as big a fool as Seungwan right now. Looking to brush it off, Irene simply walks marginally faster, countering with her own question, "How do you think I look?"

"Amazing, wonderful, I —" Seungwan has to stop herself from looking like a rambling, dumbstruck idiot, "You look good."

"Hopefully not _too_ good," Irene laughed, amused at Seungwan's response.

Feeling more playful, and emboldened by Irene's previous gaffe, Seungwan smiles, "So good." 

As they approach her white sedan, now only about ten feet away, Seungwan quickens her pace to reach the passenger door before Irene, unlocking the car with a beep of her car keys before swiftly pulling open the door for her date. What a gentleman. Irene, not wanting to seem too pleasantly surprised, simply ducked her head into the vehicle. Walking around to the driver's side and sliding into her own seat, Seungwan started the car, placing her arm behind Irene's car seat as she reversed out of the parking space. This calm, collected, and suave vision of Seungwan was truly unexpected for Irene. In her daze at this display, Irene utters, "You're surprisingly cool."

It was as if her whole facade crumbled in an instant. Retracting her hand, and directing her gaze to the road, Seungwan gave a shy nod in acknowledgement of the compliment. This constant shift between cool and cute would keep Irene on her toes for the rest of the evening.

Mind now focused on their date, Irene asks, curious, "Where are we going?"

"It wouldn't be fun if it wasn't a surprise," Seungwan appears to ease, "I know you can read my desires, but you can't read my mind!"

"Your desires are just as revealing. I can tell from your growing desire for funnel cake that we're most likely going to a fair."

"Wow, thank you Sherlock. Your deductive genius has ruined the surprise," Seungwan pouts.

"It was elementary, my dear Watson."

"Good to know that with all your age, you're still susceptible to a pop culture reference. Speaking of pop, do you have any favorites for me to put on the radio while we drive? It shouldn't be much longer, just about twenty more minutes if I were to guess."

Irene takes a second to think, mentally combing through the hits of her favorite eras, which happen to cover a range of much longer time than the typical human life span. She doesn't often want to be reminded of her age, but it seemed to be as integral to her as breathing. "I think you'll find that decades in a vase leaves my tastes relatively ancient compared to yours."

"Oh, try me! I enjoy a good retro tune," Seungwan manages to say before she cringes at the dad lingo she just used. 

"Know anything by Sinatra?"

"Know one of the best singers of his generation? Of _course_ I do!" She gasps, using her hand to clutch her chest in a dramatic show of shock, "I'm wounded! You truly insult my knowledge of the industry." She hands her phone to Irene, which is connected to the car via the aux cord. "Why don't you go to my music library and put on one of your favorites. Password is 021094."

Typing in the code, Irene not only realizes that Seungwan must be incredibly lax with her digital security, but also the significance of her password. "Is this Seulgi's birthday?"

Seungwan seems to get a little embarrassed, just nodding in affirmation as she keeps her eyes on the road. 

Irene tries to mollify her, "It's nothing to be embarrassed about, you know. Your friendship is very endearing." She looks down, smiling at the homescreen of Seulgi and Seungwan, the same poses and matching patches of cream on their face as in the framed photo on Seungwan's hallway cabinet. The genie, though largely unfamiliar with the latest technology, finds herself adapting to the software well enough, navigating to the music app and playing "Spring is Here".

Hearing the soft orchestra introduction, and Sinatra's classic croon, Seungwan sighs contentedly. "Way to fit the season, Irene. But kind of sad, don't you think? Doesn't quite fit the mood of the date we're about to go on..." Seungwan laughs airily, finishing her statement sarcastically, "...unless you already have sad prospects for this evening."

The genie doesn't respond, instead losing herself in the rich, beautiful tone of the singer and how it melds with Seungwan's own voice, who so casually outshines his magic with her own. 

" _Spring is here! Why doesn't my heart go dancing?_  
_Spring is here! Why isn't the waltz entrancing?_  
_No desire, no ambition leads me_  
_Maybe it's because nobody needs me?"_

Seungwan completely shifts the atmosphere with her solemn melody, seeming to absorb the emotions that Sinatra presents and incorporating them into a dazzling, yet intimate performance. Each note shined like the reflections of streetlights off of raindrops, hanging in the air before gliding down with the gentleness of feathers, despite carrying the oozing weight of cloudy tears. Irene has heard thousands of singers across the generations, but couldn't think of a more perfect voice. She imagines listening to it for the rest of her long lifetime. But the show feels as though it's over before it has even begun, Seungwan's voice subsiding along with the end of the short verse. Seungwan softens, a corner of her mouth lifting up almost imperceptibly. "Sorry about that, got a bit too into it."

"Don't ever apologize for giving me something so beautiful." Irene catches herself, and recognizing the seeming suddenness of her words, attempts to swat away the tension that drapes like fog across the two front seats. "I think Sinatra did better though," She teases.

Seungwan breaks into a grin, "Can't compete with the greats!" Irene thinks she can.

In stark contrast to the fiery repartees of their first few days together, they spend the rest of the car ride in near silence, save for the light jazz and soaring vocals of Sinatra resounding through the sedan's speaker system. 

* * *

Pulling in to the large parking lot in front of the fair, the glittering lights of the rides and stands growing ever nearer, Seungwan takes a second to take it all in.

Putting her car in park, she hastily gets out of the vehicle to beat Irene to opening the door, offering her hand to help her out of her seat. When Irene's small, dainty hand meets hers, Seungwan simply notices how soft it is. She must've squeezed a little too hard, as Irene winces. “Sorry,” Seungwan says bashfully. Wanting to clear the awkward air, she directs their attention to something new. She pulls the tickets out of her jacket pocket, waving them in the direction of the entrance. “Let's head in then, I made sure the print the tickets before we left!”

With no hint of sarcasm in her voice for once, Irene comments, ”A gentleman, a singer, and someone who comes prepared. What an ideal date.” 

”Only the best for you.”

Irene retorts, earning back some of her typical bite, “Add greasy to the list then.” She pretended not to enjoy Seungwan's remark, but the glimmer of joy in her eyes indicated otherwise.

After having the staff check their tickets and give them wristbands, they stepped into the fair. Immediately, the scent of fair food ambushed them, everything from the smokey scent of roasted turkey legs to the sugary churros and tart lemonade wafted around the stalls. 

“Hungry?” Seungwan asked.

”Starving.”

“Sit tight then,” Seungwan guides them over to the nearest picnic table, isolated on the grass in a less crowded seating area away from the bustle near the food stands. “I'll go grab something for us.”

”And have you guess my preferences? I've eaten cuisine from all regions, it'll be a hard task to find something that'll impress me.” Irene responds, joking with a mock air of snobbery. 

Playing along, Seungwan bows in fake reverence to the princess seated before her. “I, your humble servant, will be sure to grant your wish, your highness.” And here Irene thought _she_ was the genie. Only as she watches Seungwan's silhouette disappear into the crowd of people does she understand the spontaneity of the situation she is in, and the rashness under which she agreed to it. The squeals of children chasing each other around a nearby table, the vision of the setting sun casting the fair in a golden glow, and the rustle of grass underfoot as groups of gangly teens shuffled from attraction to attraction all presented opportunities for Irene to be distracted from her thoughts, yet they only centered on Seungwan. While yes, she was technically granting Seungwan's wish, she never executed the magic that would've formally binded her to this decision. Irene was acting of her own free will, and her will happened to bring her on this particular date, to these particular fairgrounds, and with one particular Seungwan. She was just a tad bit confused at this turn of events, knowing that she would not have done the same for her previous masters, many of whom were never interested in understanding Irene on a personal level. Knowing that Seungwan had invited her out for the sake of musical inspiration did clarify things slightly, but Irene still felt that there might have been more to it. If not anything, surely they were getting closer now. Did Irene want that? Seeing Seungwan approaching, with two corn-on-the-cobs in hand, balancing lemonades, napkins, and other various items in the crooks of her elbows, Irene's growing smile answered the question with a firm yes.

The longer she watched Seungwan struggle, however (although she did take a minute to marvel at how adorable she was), Irene broke out of her train of thought. She practically leaped from her seat, rushing over to lighten Seungwan's burden and set the drinks on their table. Seungwan tried to mutter her thanks, but it was lost in the consequent fluster of her nearly dropping one of the churros onto the grass. After sitting down and finally recovering from her series of flounders, Seungwan looked at Irene, or was it the food, in delight. “You're being awfully cooperative today.”

Irene attempts to brush off the compliment. ”You're in dire straits, it's the least I could do.”

”If being in dire straits leads to a date with you, I should put myself in dire straits more often.”

The genie is taken aback, still unused to this new side of Seungwan. She smacks the side of the shorter's shoulder in her surprise. 

Seungwan flinches, "Hey! What was that for?"

Irene finds herself looking in some random direction, hoping to hide the growing red on her cheeks. She counters, playfully, "I bet you're this charming with everyone. I won't fall for your tricks, Seungwan."

Seungwan chuckles, "Didn't expect you to." She looks downcast as she continues, "They didn't really work on anyone in the past. I mean, I don't have very much experience with love or dating anyone. Seulgi did try to set me up on a couple of blind dates before, but they didn't really pan out. I think I must've scared away all of them with my bad jokes." She scratches the back of her neck to dispel some of the anxiety of this sudden openness. "I don't know why I would be using the same jokes now." Laughing again to displace the discomfort, Seungwan goes on, "It's kind of annoying, isn't it?"

Witnessing Seungwan's insecurity, and wanting nothing more than to dispel all of her worries, Irene's usually stony exterior thaws. Reaching across the table and taking Seungwan's hands within her own, she squeezes them lightly in reassurance. "It's not annoying at all. It's cute." Irene retracts her hands, clearing her throat and averting her eyes from Seungwan's which appear to be growing more appreciative by the minute. If she stared into them any longer, she just might start developing an attachment (as if she didn't already have one). "If I thought you were annoying, I would be much colder than I am now, but here we are. I feel like you don't know this, but the more time I spend with you, it seems that my barriers slowly disappear. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that there was something magical about you."

Seungwan doesn't respond, yet her slow nod and growing smile do all of the talking for her. Choosing instead to show off the goods she's brought back, she looks at the food on the table. "Oh, we better get eating before it gets cold."

"I thought you said that you would be able to find something truly astounding. What's so astounding about corn-on-the-cob?"

"Do not let appearances deceive you, Irene," Seungwan holds one up, brandishing it like a sword in Irene's direction. She gives it a little spin, adding all of the flourish of a showman. If you could apply the behavior of a circus tent to a display of food, Seungwan would be a ringmaster right now. "Rich butter: evenly coated to give the finest glaze. Pepper, salt, chili flakes, and some green stuff I cannot recognize: the perfect ratio of seasoning. Feast your eyes on this decadent delight and forget all other corn-on-the-cobs of decades past."

"When did you become a food critic?"

"The second I saw this beauty, I became capable of anything." Seungwan took a bite, eyes widening in satisfaction. "It tastes amazing, I swear. Here," Seungwan offers the other cob to Irene. "Try it!"

Sinking her teeth into the rows of kernels, Irene seemed to understand Seungwan's high praises. Though not the most visually appealing, and superficially conventional and indistinct, the swirl of flavors coated the inside of her mouth, dancing and gliding like synchronized swimmers at the Olympics. This is what it means to have a beautiful interior, to carry a wealth of hidden worth that the exterior could not hope to match. Interesting sentiments toward corn, Irene thought. She hoped that the unidentifiable green stuff did not contain any poison, but it tasted more like chives to her. She was getting lost in this new discovery, absentmindedly saying, "It tastes like you."

Seungwan bursts out laughing, putting her head in her arms on the table to try and stifle her outburst. Looking up at Irene, still unable to stop laughing, she says, "You really don't know what you just said, do you? At least take me out to dinner first!" She takes a sip of her lemonade, "Well, I guess we're doing that right now." Irene was bewildered, but didn't feel like questioning it lest she walk into another trap. Seungwan's infectious laugh was enough of a distraction as is.

Throwing the remains of the decimated cob into a nearby bin, Seungwan wiped her hands with a napkin, taking a drink with one and offering the other to Irene. "Let's walk! There's still so much to do."

"Don't you think holding hands would be too romantic for us?"

"We _are_ on a date..." Seungwan drawls out. "Might as well act like it! If it's with you, I don't think I mind."

Not one to argue with that airtight logic, Irene accepts Seungwan's hand, who starts leading her toward the direction of flashing lights and resounding dings. It might have just been the atmosphere, the dizzying scent of funnel cakes and Seungwan's citrus shampoo, the feeling of Seungwan's hands interlocked with her own, but Irene thought that her heart just fluttered at the contact.

"I saw a bunch of fair games that way, maybe I could win you something!"

More excited at the prospect of a prize than she would've typically been, but fully aware of the money-consuming state of fairs, Irene playfully replies, "Everyone knows those things are rigged."

Seungwan turns back, smiling, "Doesn't hurt to try."

* * *

They find a wall of balloons, prizes of large teddy bears, monkeys, and elephants hanging above it. Seungwan's eyes light up when she sees a pink rabbit plush, its nose looking oh so scrunchable, with floppy ears almost seeming to beckon at her to come claim it. She's getting that bunny. Sliding two dollars across the counter to the teen who looks like this isn't his ideal way to spend the beginning of spring, she receives three darts in return. The attendant gestures to the piece of blue tape on the floor, "Stand at the line please, ma'am."

Backing up, Seungwan readies her arm, elbows in, aim straight. She leans in and releases the dart in a perfect parabolic arc... but she misses completely. Damn. Two more tries. Adjusting her aim and her velocity, trying to reach that optimal 45 degree angle, Seungwans throws another, and misses again. "Third times the charm," Irene chimes in, trying to give some encouragement. This time, Seungwan approaches Irene, dart in hand. "Blow on it, for luck." Irene thinks this is stupid, and that the tip of the dart is too blunt to even pop a balloon were Seungwan's aim to be more exact, but she leans down and blows anyway. Seungwan's eyes light up with a competitive fury. She can do this. Leaning her arm back, eyes narrowing on her target, she throws the final dart at the perfect angle, perfect velocity, and lets nature do its work. Nature decided to let her lose. 

Seungwan put her chin on Irene's shoulder, slumping in her dismay. "Aw, don't pout Seungwan, let me try." Irene grabs another three darts. With what seems to be a lot less deliberation and a lot more ease than Seungwan could muster, she watched three balloons vanish in an instant. The attendant stood surprised, stuttering, "I, uh, I guess we have a grand prize winner!" He points at the large stuffed animals overhead. "Take your pick." Wordlessly, Irene gestures at the chipmunk with an adorable red nose, almost as big as the upper half of Seungwan's body. The teen struggles to take it down, heaving it over and placing it on the counter. Irene readily receives it, but forks it over to Seungwan who carries it stunned. "You, you didn't have to." Seungwan says, obviously very excited, but also shy. "How did you do that, if you don't mind me asking? It wasn't magic, was it?"

"No, no, I can't use magic unless it's to grant one of your wishes. When not serving you, I'm just a regular human. However, as to where I gained these impeccable dart skills, one of my previous masters often frequented taverns. In order to stop the advances of the unruly men you see in those bars, I would challenge them to a game of darts. I never lost." Seungwan appeared to look at Irene in a new light. Though she jokes about how ancient the genie is, she often forgets the long history that she has behind her age. She must've seen many things. Having stared for too long, Irene interrupts Seungwan's trance, walking away from the balloon booth, "Are you following or not?" 

Seungwan starts in Irene's direction, continuing the conversation, "Why'd you choose the chipmunk? There was this really cute bunny I had my eyes on."

Irene just chuckles, "Aren't you too old for stuffed animals? Well, I'm not one to talk, I find them adorable too — the chipmunk especially." She pats Seungwan's cheek, "He's got your puffy cheeks and little red nose. You're a chipmunk holding a chipmunk." Seungwan goes red. "Anyway, do you have a name in mind? Don't let it be something lame or I'll take it straight back and return it."

"I think I'll name him Manen." 

"Cute."

* * *

Irene sits down in front of the water gun, poised to win the giant teddy bear that she could see from thirty feet away. She had already won a turtle plush, and a chicken stuffed animal, both of which were nestling in Seungwan's arms. She felt like she needed to complete the collection. There were several others competing against her, a middle-aged dad who looked like he was just dragged to this stand, a group of obnoxious teens who were not ashamed of their clear intentions to sabotage their friends once the race started, and a small kid, hands gripping the sides of the water gun in anticipation. Irene cannot pinpoint the desires of others as clearly as she can for her master, but the sheer excitement and will that is emanating off of this child makes her reevaluate her own ambitions for winning the grand prize. If Seungwan notices how Irene changes the position of her water gun, just a centimeter more to the left, she doesn't comment on it.

With the resounding ding of the bell, the race is on. Seungwan watches as the balloons ascend, the small kid in the lead and Irene close behind. The youths are all busy hitting each other to aim properly, and the dad is just on his phone while his gun shoots water haphazardly. Almost at the top, the small kid flounders, accidentally knocking his gun off of the target. As he scrambles to reset it, Irene knocks her own gun in a random direction. With the alarm sounding, there is one final winner. As if it were Christmas in March, the kid joyously receives the prize, hugging it for dear life. With the subtlest raise of her lips, Irene rejoins Seungwan, who just grins back at her. "What happened to all of the dart skills?"

Irene only half lies, "Let's just say you distracted me."

* * *

The rest of the evening proceeds in a similar fashion, with Seungwan and Irene trying out almost all of the carnival games and attractions. The tilt-a-whirl had left Seungwan's stomach in knots, and Irene almost lost herself in the fun house mirror maze, but there were no other complications. With the sun setting, and the world entering that blue hour after dusk, their day was coming to an end. But there was one last ride they had to go on.

"The Ferris wheel!" Irene excitedly points to the rotating contraption in the distance with as much excitement as a kid who's tasted cotton candy for the first time. "We have to go Seungwan!"

"Wow, you sure seem ecstatic. We only have just enough tickets left for one ride. Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure! Ferris wheels are the third most important human invention, after the telephone and refrigerator. I was there, you know, to see the very first one. The World's Fair in Chicago is a memory I'll never forget. My master's wish was to ride it, and I was lucky that he let me come with," Irene sighs, relishing in nostalgia.

By the time that Irene returned to reality from her daydream, they were already at the foot of the wheel. It was one of the more modern ones, tall, white, and with large cabins. Seungwan had no idea how they were able to construct it within the week that it took the fair to set up, but she did not feel like questioning it. Handing their tickets to the operator, they entered the cabin, sitting down opposite each other. As they're ascending, they both reflect on the day's events. Irene, interested, asks a question. "Do you have enough material to write your new song?"

Seungwan realizes that she hasn't been taking notes, far too swept up in enjoying her time with Irene. She almost reaches into her jacket pocket to grab her small notebook and start jotting notes down during this ride, but stops herself. She'd rather just spend the rest of the day fully invested in Irene's company. "Yeah, I do."

"Good," Irene turns toward the view of the fair stands and people growing smaller and more distant, "Even if I was your last choice, I'm glad I was able to be a good date."

Seungwan smirks, "I think that next time, you'll be my first choice."

The genie scoffs, "There you go again with the offhand flirting again. You're incredibly smooth despite all of your protests of being inexperienced." She takes on a more genuine tone before continuing, "How do you write so many love songs without knowing what love is like, if you don't mind me asking?"

The singer didn't expect such a poignant question, but felt it necessary to answer honestly. "It's a bit of a technicality, but you don't have to have been in love to know enough of what it's like to write about it. I think that, in some ways, perhaps the love I write about is more objective and pure, untainted by my own subjective perceptions of what the experience should be like had I already experienced it. I'm glad that it seems to resonate with people." 

As Seungwan turns to gaze out the windows, counting the number of people below, Irene looks at her. She notices the ebb of Seungwan's desire to fall in love, before a flicker, but growing and expanding in strength with each passing second. "In my experience," Irene pauses, "the most beautiful love songs have always been written by those in love."

"Then I must not write beautiful ones. Maybe one day, then." She laughs, " Wouldn't it be so much easier if I could just wish for someone to fall in love with me?" Irene is about to interject, but Seungwan continues, "Oh, and I remember the rules, don't get me wrong. Just an idea."

As they reach the highest point, the glittering lights below become their smallest, shrinking to the size of a pen tip, like traces of highlighter streaked across the earth. 

Seungwan turns back to Irene. "Don't people usually kiss at the tops of Ferris Wheels?"

"I suppose they do, but we're not like other people, are we?"

"I guess not," Seungwan smiles, flitting her eyes to Irene's own before returning them to the floor between them, lost in thought. She perks back up. "I think that this view more than compensates for a kiss —" She says, but she's interrupted by a pair of lips on her cheek. Her smile goes wider. "Thought you said we're not like other people."

"We're not, but I couldn't leave you looking that sad. It is my job to grant your wishes after all, and your heart told me that you wanted a kiss." 

Seungwan can only manage a sheepish nod in response, face flushing.

"Do you always get so weirdly sentimental?"

"What do you mean?" Seungwan asks, head tilting to the side.

"It's just that," Irene ponders, trying to properly organize her thoughts before she responds, "I'm just surprised is all."

"Surprised? It's practically the job of us lyricists to be sentimental. We're the poets of the music world, in an eternal quest to highlight the beauty of my surroundings via the universal language. It would be a shame if there was no one around to document moments like this," Seungwan leans her head back, eyes peering through the small glass pane in the ceiling at the darkening sky. 

"That's a wonderful way of putting it, and there's nothing wrong with being sentimental, I think. We need more people like you. Artists are undervalued in every era I’ve seen." Irene takes a moment to look upward, following Seungwan's gaze and wishing that she could understand the curious nature of the world in the exact way that Seungwan does. "It's not necessarily your sentimentality that I find surprising, more-so the ease through which you can switch between the different aspects of your personality. You're a lot more multifaceted than I would have thought. One second you’ll be shy, another second, scatterbrained and stressed, and yet another moment you’ll shift into a cool gentleman. If I were a fan, I would be absolutely thrilled to see all of these sides of Seungwan."

They start descending, the view of navy blue sky through the ceiling being replaced by the white steel of the Ferris Wheel's suspensions. "That's the thing, you know. The fans only get to see _Wendy's_ smiles, but not much else."

"I think they would love to see more."

"Maybe they will, eventually. For now," Irene sees a flash of the performer, Wendy, in Seungwan's smile. "Be happy to know that you're the only one that gets to see the rest of me." Seungwan's natural, more self-conscious demeanor returns, "You and Seulgi, at least."

The vehicle comes to a stop, doors opening up on the opposite side of where they entered. They exit, feeling as though the world had shifted ever so slightly in comparison to the way they had left it when they first entered the carriage.

* * *

They drive back to the apartment making conversation about any and every topic for the twenty minutes that they have together, the whole earth a stage, narrowing to only a spotlight centered on them. When they pull into the parking garage, Seungwan opens Irene's door for the final time that evening. They walk back up the steps, both wishing that they could've extended their time together. Neither of them could've anticipated the quickly closing gap between the two, having expanded the range of their relationship to extend beyond the simple banter that they had started with. They would never admit how worthwhile this day was, nor could any of their verbalizations give due justice to it.

Turning the key and entering their unit, they quietly shuffle their shoes off their feet. As they're about to enter their respective rooms, Irene stops, arm reaching toward her door's handle. "Thank you for today, Seungwan. Even with all of the things I've seen, and all of the places I've been, today will be an experience I'll remember for many more years."

"Anytime, really. We should do it again."

"You'll have to make sure to outdo yourself every time. I won't expect anything less." Opening her door, the genie makes one final comment. "Make sure this song is excellent." She closes the door, leaving Seungwan to stare at the white wood.

"I think it will be."

Seungwan returns to her own room, shedding her coat and pulling out her lyric notebook, void of any notes from their date. Yet, she feels as though she didn't need to write anything down, that the experience was too rich to properly put down on paper. All she needs is to capture the feelings of a new, exciting, blooming love. She scribbles down a short title at the top of the page: "Day 1".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little selfish. Wenrene on a cute date was too difficult an idea to resist! I hope you all are doing well, and Biden 2020!! On another note, how much do you guys like the song One of These Nights? You all probably don't care that much, but it is my favorite Red Velvet song : ) I was watching videos on the internet and it seems like not enough people like it as much as I do, so I hope that if you don't like it, you'll listen to it again and reevaluate! Haha, just kidding, everyone is entitled to their own opinions. I at least hope you liked the other songs I recommended. Let me know in the comments if you liked the chapter, or if you liked any of my recommendations! Until next time audience!


	5. Back to Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungwan, fresh with new songwriting fervor, get's back to work.

Irene rolls into the kitchen in the morning, extending her arms in a yawn. Seungwan is already seated at the island, a plate of eggs and bacon in front of her. She's absentmindedly scrolling through her phone, interrupted only by times where she shovels more eggs into her mouth. Sometimes the yolk leaves a yellow smear across her upper lip. She seems to pay it no mind, merely resuming her egg eating endeavors. As much as Irene finds yolk mustache Seungwan tragically adorable, she takes a napkin and approaches her. Hearing her footsteps, Seungwan turns around, giving a grin that outshines the rising sun at this ungodly hour. (Really, it was only 8 AM, but Irene was used to a lot more days of waking up late in the past.) 

"Oh, you're awake? I'm sorry, was I being too loud? I didn't mean to drop the pan earlier..."

"No, you're fine. If there was anything that living in a vase taught me, it's to be a heavy sleeper," Irene responded, thinking back on the state of her furniture, still haphazardly arrayed from her first encounter with Seungwan. It's not that she was too lazy to right them, it's that it was a lot more entertaining to spend time with Seungwan than it was to push around bed frames of pure gold and cabinets decorated with ivory. She didn't care too much for the opulence anyway, with Seulgi's old room being more than suitable for her needs. Seungwan was even kind enough to wish that the room was decorated to Irene's tastes, allowing her to use her magic to add her own personal touch. Every so often, Irene would feel as though Seungwan were the one granting all of _her_ wishes.

Irene wipes Seungwan's mouth, eliciting a groan that provokes Irene to stick her tongue out at the singer. She glances at Seungwan's plate before looking back at her, pouting, "Why didn't you make me any?"

Seungwan gets up from her seat, putting the pan on the stove and lighting the fire. "I didn't know when you were going to be up. I just figured I would make another plate before I go." She rolled up the sleeves of her button-up and cracked the eggs, sounds of sizzles filling the spaces in their conversation.

It was now that Irene realized the state of Seungwan, no longer in her usual pajamas or sweats that she's worn around the apartment for the last two weeks. She was dressed casually, yet professionally, as if she had some important meeting to attend. Irene knew that she wasn't a corporate button pusher, so she was perplexed as to what new circumstances have arisen, asking, "You said you were going somewhere? What's the occasion?" 

Brushing some of her short hair behind her ears, Seungwan focuses on not burning the bacon with enough attention left to respond, "Not much of an occasion, just going into the studio today. The producers really liked the demo I sent over, and want to get started working on it right away. I guess I'm going to leave you home alone today then." 

Irene frowns, "You can't take me with you?"

"Not unless it's Take-Your-Roommate-To-Work-Day," Seungwan laughs, tilting the pan to slide the food onto the plate. She hands it to Irene. "Eat up, hold on, let me get something real quick." Irene just nods, more preoccupied with Seungwan's homecooked meal. She was very glad that she forced Seungwan to go grocery shopping with her a few days ago. As good as food from wishes could be, Irene couldn't help but like the dishes that Seungwan whipped up more. Cook, sing, play instruments. There was really no talent that the girl did not possess. 

The sound of a door shutting and clumsy footsteps resounding down the hall announced Seungwan's re-entrance. She swung around the corner into the kitchen, carrying the large chipmunk plush that Irene had won her. Irene's right eyebrow quirked up. "What are you doing with Manen?"

Seungwan sets him down on the seat next to Irene, saying, "He is my replacement for today! Hug him whenever you feel lonely."

"I don't even hug you, why should I hug Manen?"

Indignant, the singer sticks out her lower lip in a childish, albeit endearing display. "Because he's cute and soft!"

"I didn't say _he_ wasn't. You, on the other hand..." Irene looks Seungwan up and down, a glint of mischief in her eyes, "... are nothing like little Manen over here." She pats the plush on his head as if to emphasize her point. 

"I'm better," Seungwan asserts, taking her empty plate over to the sink. "I don't remember Manen being able to make breakfast."

Hugging the chipmunk (the inanimate one, not the one washing the dishes), Irene quips, "Manen is cuter because he can't talk back." As her arms sink into the soft cotton, Irene just thinks about how much nicer it would be to hug Seungwan instead.

"He's all yours then," Seungwan concedes as she puts her plate on the rack. Checking her watch, Seungwan grabbed a coat on her way to the door. "I've got to go now, knock yourself out with whatever you want to do. You have my number saved in the old phone I gave you last week, right?"

"Yes, I do, but I think I left it in my room." 

"You should keep it in your pocket, just in case we need each other."

Irene puts her plate on the counter by the sink, before leaving to get the chunky smartphone from off of her dresser. She rolls her eyes, "It's not like we'll need each other 24/7."

"You never know," Seungwan shrugs, but finishes her statement by shooting a wink Irene's way. "I think I'll need _you_."

"Leave before I punch you."

"Wait, wait, before you do that," Seungwan fishes her own phone out of her pocket, going to Irene's contact and pressing the call button. Irene's thigh buzzes. She looks at Seungwan, eyebrows raised, as if to ask, really? The girl gets the message, nodding in response. With a sigh, Irene picks up. "What do you want, Seungwan?"

"Just checking if it works!" The singer states, playful and bubbly.

"If you need a wish while you're out, you can always just call me. I'll make sure to keep this metal block in my pocket in case you need me."

"Magic over the phone, wow! Technology has truly changed everything," Seungwan replies gratefully, with a tinge of amused sarcasm. "Just curious, what do you have me saved as?"

The genie tilted her head to the side, wondering what Seungwan meant. "Oh, I just mean the name you attached to my contact." Seungwan shows Irene the contact on her phone, which reads GenRene. "It's pronounced jean-rene, by the way. Pretty clever, I think!" Irene shakes her head in admonishment. Seungwan was definitely unique amongst her masters, and she could now add dorkiest to the list of the superlatives that made her stand out. 

"I just have you saved a Son Seungwan. Was I supposed to put something else?"

Seungwan walks over to her, gently removing the phone from Irene's grasp. "Yes, Irene, you were. I thought we were closer than full names," Seungwan sulked. "Here, I'll change it to something more fun." Rapidly typing in Seungwannie, and adding two hearts at the end, Seungwan hands the phone back. "There you go! Much better." Irene thinks that her smile is too disarming to protest.

"I hope this name change was important enough to show up late," Irene cracks. Seungwan's eyes widen in realization, hastily shoving her feet into her shoes and opening the door. "I'll see you later! If all goes well, I might take you on another date." With a final wink (a deadly tendency Irene thinks), Seungwan disappears down the steps. Closing the door behind her and locking it, Irene turns and looks across their apartment. What to do now...

* * *

Arriving at the studio, Seungwan greets the staff and receptionists politely. They respond with nods and waves, some looking visibly surprised to see Seungwan's return, offering sentiments of how they missed seeing her around the recording booths and their lunch break chats. She realizes how much she's missed them too. 

The company she worked for was not the biggest in the industry, nor the most famous, but was a group of amazingly talented individuals. Everyone from the producers and songwriters to the managers and security guards were instrumental to the success of the artists. Sometimes she felt as though she was too lucky to have the opportunity to work with them. Walking down the familiar hallway, she puts her ear to the door of the recording room. She only hears idle chatter, deciding it would be safe to open the door. Inside are two men, one sitting on the couch lined up against the soundproof foam covered wall, and the other in a comfortable swivel chair in front of the mixing table. Mr. Swivel Chair had been fiddling with the mix settings, hands deftly moving across the sound board while Mr. Couch was combing through the audio files on his laptop, both interrupted by Seungwan's entrance. Upon seeing her, they both broke into a grin.

”Wendy!” the heavy-set, middle aged man nearly shouted, hurriedly standing up from the comfortable couch to greet Seungwan. Her name seemed to be followed by two cracks, both of which appeared to have come from the knees which he was now rubbing, bent over with his previous smile drawn to a wince. He sighs half-heartedly, “I must be getting too old for this energetic industry.”

Seungwan appears shocked. ”That's not true, Mr. Lim. Your talent for great production truly doesn't age.” 

“You're laying on the compliments too thick, Wendy. Didn't I tell you to call me Jihoon the last time we met? I know we haven't seen each other in a while, but I thought we've worked together long enough for us to be more than just acquaintances.” He gave a hearty laugh.

Seungwan just responds shyly, “Oh, I just thought I should treat you with the respect that all of your talent deserves.”

This comment is met with a clap on the back, eliciting even more laughter from Lim. “Always a kind one, huh. You haven't changed. Treat yourself with as much respect, okay? You're almost an industry veteran by now. Anyway...” He gestures toward the young man in the swivel chair, who has been listening attentively to their interaction. “This is Sungjin. He's a new producer we've signed on in the couple of months you were out, so you probably haven't met yet.” Sungjin stands up with a smile, large rough hands taking ahold of Seungwan's in a vigorous shake.

”I'm a huge fan! I love your voice, your lyrics, your compositions—“ He's cut off by Lim. 

“Ah yes, I forgot to mention how much he likes you. Honestly, before you even came in he was rattling my ear off about the last album you released. I worked on that! I can't believe he wouldn't gush about _my_ arrangements instead.” The man gave a playful pout, an interesting look for his age. Seungwan always found him endearing like that. As to whether she found Sungjin's enthusiasm endearing... she had yet to see. He still hasn't let go of her hands. As if reading her mind, he quickly releases her from his grasp, ears glowing red as he clasps his hands behind his back. “I'm sorry. I wish I could've left a better first impression, but I just wanted you to know how excited I am to be working with you. It's not every day you get to work with _the_ Wendy!”

As much as his initial exuberance was off putting, the kid was nice enough, Seungwan reasoned. Her surprise wore off and her whole demeanor softened. Waving her hand ambiguously, in the odd, yet humble Seungwan manner, she said, “It's fine, but I don't think I'm even famous enough to be known as _the_ Wendy.”

Sitting back down and flipping a few switches, he beams. “Well you should be! I was listening to the demo you sent, and I think we can help this track get there. All other Wendys better step aside!” 

While Sungjin turned his attention back to the sound board, Lim gave Wendy a reassuring pat on the back. “He's right, you know. I think this is going to be a good one. Glad to have you back in the studio. Now, we've nearly set up everything, so go on into the booth and let's get this show on the road!”

She goes through the glass doors, the lingering scent of dust filling her nose. The atmosphere was so nostalgic, the time far too long since she had last adjusted the microphone to her height, last run her fingers along the ridges of the sound proof foam. The electricity was still the same, the room almost buzzing with the unmistakable feeling of inspiration. Seungwan wondered why she had ever left.

Placing the headphones over her ears, she looked through the glass at Sungjin and Lim. Pressing a button, she heard Sungjin's voice come through the speakers. “Ready?”

With a nod, she saw the red light turn on, beckoning her to start. She heard a basic melody come pouring through the headset, likely the product of initial planning on the part of Sungjin and Lim, replacing the simple noodling on her guitar and the hum for a bassline that she recalled sending in. With the entrance of the drums, Seungwan let her voice join the track.

“ _Like the day I first wore my school uniform,_

 _I feel awkward and excited..._ ”

Her voice was smooth, no coarseness, leaving only the shine of a pearl shaped by encounters with too much sand. Yet, perhaps it was too smooth, sounding far too velvety and experienced to be a voice reminiscent of teenage infatuation. The red light blinked out, backing track fading from Seungwan's ears. “That was good, that was good, but not quite the feel we're going for here. How about you think of your own first love, or a first date! Let's try that again.”

Seungwan nods and the red light shines again.

She shuts her eyes, imagining the excitement of first love, attempting to instill in herself the sweat of interlocked hands and the thrumming heartbeat of youth. She needed her voice to match that anticipation, to hold the same nervous anticipation and awkward naïveté. The concepts dancing on the backs of her eyelids were vague, scenes of a drama flickering like old film in the black and white of her vintage imagination. A boy bowing with anxious confession. A girl sheepishly accepting flowers. 

Her voice followed the images in her mind, chasing the notes as breathlessly as a boy biking to the train station to confess his love. In that moment she knew what romance was, to the extent of the movies and shows she had watched, to the extent of the love she had seen as a facade on the faces of trained actors with smiles too bright to be genuine. She faltered, the anxiety and distance becoming too prominent for her to mask. Why should she sing of a love when she did not know how it felt? Why go to such lengths to convey a love so generic?

These thoughts dug cracks in her mind, created cracks in her voice. If she squinted, she could see that the red light cracked too.

“Are you good, Wendy? You were doing so well until...” Sungjin's eyes dart down, stopping himself from moving on and potentially insulting his idol. Lim broke the tense atmosphere with a joke, “We know that this song is supposed to convey the nervous excitedness of new love, but don't you feel like you're being a little more nervous than excited here?” His boisterous laugh is met with awkward chuckles from Sungjin and Seungwan. He makes a motion at Sungjin, before stepping into the booth himself. His familiar and comforting presence eased some of Seungwan's worries. Speaking in a softer tone than his usual rambunctious self, he said, “Look, you're very talented, alright? No need for any anxiety, we've been through this before. Singing is what you do best, so just do your best and we'll do another few takes, got it?” Seungwan swallows the lump in her throat. He seems to take that as enough of an affirmation, mumbling, “You know, I've never even heard her voice crack until now,” as he swings open the glass door and plops himself on the couch behind Sungjin.

Pumping his fist in the air, Sungjin hopes to instill more confidence in the singer. ”You can do this Wendy!”

* * *

No, she can not do this. They've gone through six more takes, three of which ruined by vocal mishaps (She knew she should've warmed up before recording) and the other three rejected as not matching the correct tone for the track. Every time, she felt more motivated to continue recording, to correct her mistakes, yet she also felt her confidence waver with every additional take. “Okay, let’s try again —“ Sungjin starts, but is interrupted by Lim cutting in to say, “I think that's enough for now. We'll take a ten minute break and continue soon. You must be getting tired, Wendy.”

Disappointed and frowning, she exits the booth and makes a move to leave to the hallway. Lim cuts in front of her, grabbing the door handle and Sungjin's wrist. “Stay here and rest, we'll leave the room to you instead.” She feels too tired to verbalize her thanks, hoping that a warm smile would suffice. Sungjin takes it as his cue to leave, but Lim lingers for a bit. “I'm not exactly sure what's gotten into you, but you can get through it Wendy. The song is going to be excellent. Your voice is excellent.” He places his hands on her shoulders, letting out a quiet exhale. His eyes are crescents, gleaming with the same pride of an uncle to a niece who has just placed second in the science fair. Seungwan feels like that niece right now, unworthy of his praise. He continues, “I've seen a lot, you know, being in this industry for so long. I've seen so many talents, but none quite like you.” He pauses. “But I've also seen so many talents squashed. Maybe it was pressure, maybe it was the fame. There were any number of reasons, but each time was such a loss. I don't want to see that happen with you." Putting his hands down and reaching for the door, he turns around and leaves one final comment. "I know the last promotion cycle didn't end too well. You should know you're not the only one who read those comments either, but there are still so many people who believe in your talent. I'm one of them. Sungjin is one of them. You should be one of them too." He steps out, the door closing with a click, a last sound to usher in the silence that now filled the room.

Seungwan drags her feet along the floor before sinking back into the leather cushions, weariness seeping into the crevices of her joints. She wishes she could dissolve, as close to relaxing as she could be, yet so far in that she could still feel the anxiety intermingle with her exhaustion. Both threatened to consume her. Before her hiatus, she never felt like this, couldn't feel the mistakes compound upon her like rabid dogs cornering a squirrel in an alley. The worries bubbled like the foam at their mouths. The more she thought, the more the teeth threatened to sink into her throat. Instead, she let sleep take her away.

* * *

Messages flashed across the screen. 

**nowanlikesyou** : "why is wendy a rising star in the industry when she is actually _so_ overrated"

 **getsomewanelse:** "^^ ikr!!! like she's sposed to be indie but she produces things that are _way_ too generic"

 **wendyanti3** : "if you actually like her, you need better taste~~"

 **ihatewendy** : "I swear if half of you weren't raging lesbians, you wouldn't even like her. Just because she performs in a suit doesn't mean she's good."

 **ot0stan: "** how many times are you guys going to fall for songs that all sound the sAme and talk about the saMe things! can't you tell that she's been single for liFeEee" 

The endless parade continued, each word marching down until they flowed into a strange amalgamation of black ink pooling at the bottom of the screen. They dripped down incessantly, like a faucet with a leak that can't be repaired. The whine of the flow seemed to whisper the messages aloud, "Quit now Wendy. You'll never be special. We need someone better."

Each one hung in the air before disappearing, edges fizzling and crackling out like glitches across a broken monitor. Graphs of plummeting lines took their stead. Red lines going up and down the charts, yet showing only declining sales as compared to her previous releases. The lines multiplied, but all contributed to a downward trend, seeming to overlap and intersect in some sort of malignant mathematical failure. The pattern became clear when the grid shrunk, leaving the lines to spell out article headlines:

"Wendy in a slump"

"Indie turned generic pop?"

"Son Seungwan: overrated or not?"

"Why does Wendy write about love when she's never loved?"

The words peeled off of their background, swimming towards Seungwan like eels, wrapping around her throat and squeezing as she fell with a splash. Water pooled around her ears as she reached out, palms finding cool glass. Quickly, she covered her eyes as the flashing lights of cameras shot through the tank. Though the water muffled the sounds, she still found the clicks and flashes deafening. The words, the sounds, the water. All of it flooded her lungs. She couldn't scream. She couldn't escape. She couldn't take it anymore. She had to leave.

The glass shattered. The flashes stopped. All that was left in this black void were the scratches on her skin, the damage in her lungs, and ringing. Where the hell was that ringing coming from? It grew louder, _louder_ , **_louder_** , until...

She woke up.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, dumb, annoying marimba ringtone permeating the still air. Though the contents of the nightmare were nothing more than vague blurs to her, she still felt shaken. She almost denied the call until she noticed the caller ID. GenRene. Seungwan didn't hesitate to pick up. 

Irene's voice came through the receiver slightly nervous and hesitant. Perhaps she was still warming up to the idea of telephone calls. "Hello? Seungwan?" 

She can't help but smile at how cute Irene is being. It was as if those two words were enough to combat the unsettling feeling in her chest. Laughing, Seungwan responds, "Yes, it's me. Did you need anything?"

"No, no, I just wanted to check to see how you were doing. I hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"It's ok, you actually did me a favor." Irene was halted in her confusion, the pause acting as Seungwan's cue to continue. "You just rescued me from the worst nightmare." She sighed, but did not let her anxiety get in the way of the opportunity her greasiness had just paved. "If only I could see you in my dreams instead."

"If I could slap you through this phone I would Son Seungwan. Seeing as you must be completely fine, since you have the luxury to be sleeping on the job, I think I'll hang up now."

"No, wait. I think I have a wish for you."

Seungwan can almost see Irene's eye roll. "Oh really? Let me guess, is it five more minutes to nap?"

"No, actually, I don't think I want to go back to sleep for a while. Can I wish to do well in this recording session? I know it's kind of weird, and I don't know if it accidentally trips a technicality but—"

She hears a snap. "Wish granted. Now you'll perform your best, magically guaranteed."

Seungwan feels a surge of renewed confidence. If you can't get organic assurance, store bought is fine. "Thank you Irene, I—" She's interrupted by a knock on the door. "I think the producers are back, I should go."

Irene loses the previous snark in her tone. "You'll do great, Seungwan."

She grins. "You always know what I want to hear. When will you ever stop?"

"Whenever I stop being your genie." Her response is short, but conveys more than Seungwan thinks it does. "Now get to it, Seungwan. I better be the first to hear the finished song."

"You will, you will. I'll even dedicate it to you!" She hears Irene giggle over the line. "I could introduce the song at performances by saying it goes out to the most beautiful girl in the world."

"What did I say about hitting you through the phone?"

Seungwan chuckles, "Alright, I get it. Bye, Irene."

"Goodbye."

Seungwan turns her attention to opening the door, with Sungjin and Lim walking in with take out bags in their hands. "Good to see you're up. We saw that you were resting and didn't want to bother you, so we decided to take an early lunch. Don't worry, we got food for you too." Lim shoves a drink in her hand. "Sungjin remembered that you said you liked boba in an interview, so here you go. Didn't know his enthusiasm for you ran so deep that he knows your favorite drink, but I guess it worked out in our favor this time." Sungjin didn't want to respond lest he embarass himself more. Lim was doing a phenomenal job of that himself. Trying to change the subject, Sungjin jumped in, "Did you rest well, Wendy? Are you ready to go again?"

She sets the drink on table beside the couch, grinning. "Yeah, I think I'm ready."

Lim can't help but smile back at her, returning the same energy. "You seem enthusiastic. I guess a good nap really does cure all."

"I find that Wendy's voice is a cure-all."

"Oh, shut up, Sungjin. Now get in the booth Wendy, let's see those cure-all vocals shine."

She steps up to the microphone with certainty. Whether it was the magic or her excitement, or even a combination of both, she couldn't tell. The now too familiar chords meandered through her headphones. She felt anticipation. She felt electricity. As she imagined scenes of first love, her mind was redirected toward images of churros and corn on the cob, images of darts and fair prizes, of quips and snark, of interlocked hands, of kisses at the tops of ferris wheels. Her heart was racing. Was it the song, her love of singing, or was it the genie on her mind? Though the track lacked all of the trappings of polished production, she could almost hear the risers and the swell. Her heart was filling the blanks of the harmonies and crescendos as her entire body seemed to respond to the idea of new love.

" _Step by step, I like walking with you_

_I like this song that only we know"_

She takes off the headset in a daze, still quietly humming the infectious chorus. The red light flashes in and out as if it were applauding Seungwan.

Sungjin's voice comes over the speakers for the final time.

"That was perfect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songwriter Seungwan Songwriter Seungwan Songwriter Seungwan!! Seungwan's wishes are unconventional, aren't they? Kind of shows you what her priorities are! More on that in later chapters, I suppose. She actually makes the same kind of wishes I do. I know that I made the title of this work 11:11, because of its tangential relation to wishes, but it's also because I make a lot of wishes at 11:11!! It's a little embarrassing of a habit, but I always wait until it's at least past 11:11 p.m. so that I can make a wish. I'll come up with a better reason for the title later, so look forward to it.  
> Just as another note, none of the extra characters are going to be based off any celebrities. They likely won't be recurring or too prominent, and I feel as though I would misrepresent other idols if I were to include them, so I won't! Problem solved.  
> I'm sorry that this one came late, I had to put a lot of thought into the backstory and I had a lot of planning for the next three chapters, all going to be interrelated. It'll be interesting! Thank you for your patience and thank you all for reading, I hope you have a good day!!


	6. Meet-Awkward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungwan catches up with Seulgi after her recording session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A song recommendation for when Seulgi narrates: April by Kanazu Tomoyuki.

After leaving the studio, Seungwan was still buzzing with the energy of that fantastic recording session. She felt that the occasion called for a celebration, grabbing her phone and readying herself to call Irene when she noticed a text message.

**seulbear** : 

Doing anything today?

3:22 PM

**me:**

just finished my recording session!!

5:04 PM

 **seulbear** : 

Congrats Wannie!! I'm actually downtown today, and

there's this really nice cafe near your studio : )

Let me treat you~~

5:05 PM

Seungwan had to contemplate whether to accept the invitation. On the one hand, she had promised Irene a date if the recording went well (more like half-promised, if she was honest). On the other hand, she hasn't seen Seulgi in a couple weeks, which was a couple weeks too long to not be seeing the bear. Of course, they had been texting and calling regularly, but that could never replace the surprise hugs and crescent eyed smiles she had gotten so used to. She could always take Irene out another time. After weighing the options, she shot off a quick text.

**me:**

send me the address and i'll see you there

can't say no to free coffee >: )

5:10 PM

 **seulbear** : 

Reve Cafe

80114 Velvet St.

5:12 PM

Seungwan pulled up the directions, and it was luckily only a five minute walk away. As she walked, she thought about Irene and wondered what she was up to. This was the first day in two weeks that she was not around to entertain her in some way, whether they were lounging on the couch watching old films or just talking. Seungwan especially loved hearing about Irene's escapades throughout the years, like the one time she served a pirate sailing the high seas or when she was skirting the authorities under the direction of a crime lord. She was like a walking history book, and though Seungwan never paid too much attention to those lessons in school, she found that Irene made the subject riveting. Surely a simple life in Seungwan's apartment couldn't compare. Speaking of, she must be bored at home alone. Seungwan recalled giving full access to Seulgi's collection of movies in the cabinet under the T.V., but those were bound to get old. Beginning to feel even guiltier for meeting up with Seulgi, her hands had acted of their own accord and dialed Irene's number. 

There has hardly half a ring before she heard Irene's small voice come through the receiver. "Seungwan? Did you need something?"

It sounded just like Irene to ask about what Seungwan needed, putting her needs first even when she must be bored out of her mind right now. The thought warmed Seungwan's heart. "Just checking in to see how things are going. Are you finding enough things to keep yourself preoccupied with?"

"Yeah, I'm doing fine. I found more than enough things to do, so you don't have to worry about me."

Seungwan was relieved. She figured that a couple hundred years of existence would teach you how to fill your time, but she couldn't be sure until Irene's reassurance. "Well that's great! I just wanted to let you know that I'll be coming home a little later than planned because I'll be spending some time with Seulgi. Is that alright?"

Irene scoffed, "Since when did you need my permission for anything? It's about time you went out anyway."

"What a nice way to tell me that I'm a homebody. Guess you don't miss me after all," Seungwan posed.

She could almost hear how Irene cracked a grin. "I've found out that Manen is much better company. He's much more receptive to my humor, not to mention an excellent cuddle buddy and —" There was a crash in the background. 

Out of shock, and a grave sense of danger, Seungwan sputtered, "Irene... what was that? Are you okay? Should I call the cops?"

"No, no! Don't call the cops! I'm just," Irene paused strangely, "I'm just cleaning is all. I dropped a plate, but I'll make sure to get rid of the mess before you get home! Hurry and go hang out with Seulgi, I hope you have fun!"

The line went dead.

Seungwan couldn't help but feel that that was one of the stranger interactions she's had with the genie. Maybe she was just antsy about leaving glass on the floor. Either way, Irene could handle herself, and Seungwan trusted her enough to not leave the apartment a mess. Though they've only lived together for a short period of time, she felt that Irene was not the sort to revel in untidiness. Losing herself in these thoughts was enough to pass the time until she arrived at her destination. At least, that's what Google Maps said. She was on the right street, but couldn't seem to find this "Reve Cafe". There was a clothing store, a quaint antique shop, and a salon, but no cafe in sight. Seungwan swore she put on her contacts this morning, but hell, her eyes must be going. 

Breaking her out of her bout of squinting at various storefronts, she felt two hands wrap around her head, covering her eyes. Before Seungwan was able to throw her hands up in protest, or possibly attack, as her fight-or-flight response was urging her to, she felt a warm breath on her ear, the perpetrator leaning closer. With a teasing lilt to their tone, they asked, "Guess who?"

There was no illusion as to who the "stranger" was. Seungwan huffed, "Kang Seulgi, if you do not remove your hands this instant I will be forced to use the lessons from that one self-defense class I took against you."

Suddenly, Seungwan's vision was restored. She turned around to see the photographer pout, arms crossed. With her characteristic suede jacket, beat-up converse, and prized camera swung across her shoulders, there was no mistaking her best friend for anyone else. "It's no fun if you don't guess Wannie."

"What's the fun in guessing if you're the only one I know who would do that?"

Seulgi gave Seungwan's shoulder a playful shove. "I also happen to be one of the only people you _do_ know."

"See? It wouldn't be very hard of a guess at all!"

"Okay, okay, loser." Seulgi stuck out her tongue and put her hand in an L shape on her forehead. If she was supposed to look menacing or mean, she was doing a very poor job of it. "Anyways, we should be heading inside," she said, taking Seungwan by the wrist as she started walking down the alley between the clothing store and salon. 

"Are you planning on kidnapping me Seul? What's with taking me to this shady alley? My revenue money won't make for a very good ransom."

"Oh, shut up, Seungwan. Since when did I ever put you in danger?" Seungwan thinks back to the times that Seulgi decided to try her hand at cooking, and she was the convenient taste tester. Food poisoning for three days straight qualified as danger in her eyes.

Seungwan's wince was enough of an answer for Seulgi. "Okay, maybe a few times, but now is not one of those times! Here," Seulgi stops in front of a wooden door that gave the appearance of a secret entrance embedded in the concrete of the surrounding buildings. Foliage draped across the top and sides of the frame, a warm feeling emanating from the location despite the rigidity of the architecture around it. With such a unique and inviting atmosphere, Seungwan had to take a second to contemplate whether or not Seulgi had stumbled across a fairy's den.

She must've been staring too long, as Seulgi interrupted her train of thought. "If you keep gawking at the cafe through the window instead of going _inside_ it, I might change my mind about not kidnapping you and getting that sweet, sweet ransom money."

Seungwan relents, opening the door for herself and her friend, but not without getting the last word. "Who's to say I wouldn't sell you off to one of those art critics because I got fed up with all of your wit, Seul?"

"Did you just admit I'm witty? You must've had a really rough day in the studio."

"Watch it! Just one call and the critics will come collect you in an instant!"

The interior was more magical than even its interesting entrance would initially indicate. As soon as they stepped foot through the door, the strong scent of coffee and the more gentle scent of vanilla intermingled, filling the room. It had the feeling of a still oasis in the midst of the bustling city. As Seungwan grabbed a corner booth and Seulgi went to the counter to order, she wondered how Seulgi ever encountered such a place. There were only a few patrons dispersed throughout the small interior, pleasantly chatting about their days in their dreary corporate lives or gossiping about what stranger their roommate brought home last night. What the cafe lacked for in space, it more than made up for in homeliness and comfort.

Seungwan was just about to dissolve right into the velvet cushions when a tray was placed on her table. Seulgi slid into the booth, beaming like a dog that had retrieved a tennis ball for their owner. She was right to be proud. It was a wonderful assortment, everything from delectable slices of red velvet cake to kiwi tarts. This was far too much food to consume in the period of a quick meet-up, but the way Seungwan's mouth was watering told her that today was a day to push her limits. Surely her stomach could handle a little more sugar than usual.

This was too good to be true. Literally, though. Seulgi wasn't one to impulsively buy, nor did Seungwan think that one recording session was enough to warrant such an extensive congratulations. 

"What's all this for? Did I forget my birthday?"

Seulgi shakes her head in an amused manner. "No, but something almost as good! I know we're here to celebrate you getting back into the music scene, but I have just as much reason to celebrate!" The comment evoked a questioning head tilt from Seungwan, prompting Seulgi to continue. "So, you know how I've been in this rut with my photography recently. As much as I love the craft, I've been lacking inspiration these days." Seungwan almost wanted to laugh at how similar their situations were, but nodded in understanding.

"Anyway," Seulgi took a bite of the kiwi tart, "I think I've found my muse."

"Muse? As in metaphorically or literally?"

"Literally. I was walking through the park two blocks down and I," Seulgi paused in recollection, eyes lighting up. "I found the most beautiful person you could ever meet."

Seungwan doesn't recall introducing her to Irene. "Not that I'm complaining, but this person must've surely been something for you to splurge on all of this dessert." 

Seulgi nods, hands readying to take another tart. "Well, it's a long story, and we have some time."

"Don't let me stop you, I'll just be listening attentively in between mouthfuls of all this cake."

Her best friend is too excited to care about a retort.

"So..."

* * *

"Something beautiful, something beautiful, something beautiful..." Seulgi was mumbling this odd mantra to herself as she ambled about the park walkways. Her eyes scanned the blossoming trees, watched the shifting amalgamations of pigeons, viewed the rows of ducklings peeking behind the reeds at the edge of the pond. She was used to scenic shots, but none of these scenes were... _scenic_ enough. 

She sighed, fidgeting with the cross-section of the strap of her camera and satchel slung across her torso. When her agent told her that the audience was starting to become tired of the same old still-lifes, seeming to lack, well, life, Seulgi thought that she might want to shoot somewhere that was full of it. Cities, of course, were full of life, but they were also full of people. Seulgi's type of photography was _not_ people photography. They were too performative at times, hard to pose, hard to please. Inanimate objects nor nature could protest to innovative angles or a differing artistic vision, and she found that there was a subtle beauty in stillness that she couldn't quite achieve with people as subjects. It was always interesting how she had the ability to make an impersonal subject more personal than an actual person. 

Though the slow ripples of the pond seemed to echo Seulgi's quiet disappointment, she decided to stay optimistic, returning to her strange chant. She crouched down near the pond's edge, unclasping the buckle of her bag and pulling out her polaroid camera, seeking to take some test shots with the instant film. "Something beautiful, something beautiful, something—" The eye of her lens trailed the concrete of the paved walkway, gazing up to linger on a figure seated on the bench. The woman's eyes were fluttered shut, wind breezing through her long hair at a pace that matched her cyclic exhales. A houndstooth coat was loosely draped across her shoulders, legs and arms crossed tightly, heels forming sharp angles in contrast to the feeling of serenity that she was radiating. Despite the eddies and swirls of the pigeon formations, despite the rustling of the reeds like a lover's whisper, despite the cherry pink of the blossoms overhead, she found this dozing woman the most captivating. Seulgi lowered her camera in awe, as if the seeing this display through a lens was not enough to do it justice. She let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, "Beautiful."

Her hands moved on instinct, manipulating the shutter speed, centering her subject within the shot. With a snap, this moment was imprinted permanently on film.

But something was not quite right. If only she could tilt her chin a tad bit to the right, everything would be perfect. Without thinking, Seulgi reached out and gently adjusted the woman's head, thumb grazing the soft lines of her jaw, aiming for an ideal angle to complete the shot. 

A hand wrapped around her wrist. "Usually, I get paid for photos taken of me, you know."

* * *

"You did what?" Seungwan exclaimed. ""Why would you interrupt a lady taking a nap?"

Though Seulgi was the one who committed the questionable act, she replied with just as much confusion. "I don't know, I don't know! I wasn't even thinking, I just did it!"

"There you go sounding like me in gay panic! Seulgi, you've officially evolved to the level of useless lesbian."

"Can we stop bullying me and continue with what happened?"

"There is literally no way that this interaction can end well, but you can continue."

"Ahem..."

* * *

Seulgi retracted her hand like touching a hot lady. Hot olive. No wait, hot stove. She was really floundering here.

“Take a picture, it'll last longer. Oh wait, you did,” The stranger scoffed. “If I knew I'd have my first encounter with the paparazzi today, I would've dressed up a little more.”

As if _begging_ to continue her string of blunders, Seulgi sputtered, “I think you look great as you are.”

”You must have been, since you were so eager to get a photo.” Her arms tightened her pose, looking so intimidating even as she was looking up at Seulgi from her seat. Her index finger tapped at a breakneck pace on her forearm, a symptom of growing impatience. “I'm still waiting for an explanation, Suede.” 

Two minutes into this awkward encounter and Seulgi had already received a demeaning nickname. This was going great.

”I'm so sorry. I'm Kang Seulgi, a photographer. I mean, I don't even usually photograph people, I was just walking around, looking for a place to shoot when I happened to see you here. You looked so serene. I like my shots to be as still and as accurate as possible, and most people aren't like that but everything about this was so perfect, and—“

”Joy,” the woman interjected, pulling the brakes on Seulgi's trainwreck of an explanation.

”What?”

”I just thought I should introduce myself, since it is becoming eminently clear that there was no reasonable motive behind your strange actions.” She got her there. “I'll tell you what, since you don't seem like the stalker type, way too soft and way less creepy, I'll let you off easy.” Seulgi nods vigorously, anything to get her off of this beautiful girl's bad side sounded like a wonderful opportunity.

”Just show me the photo.”

Now that... That was something tricky to accomplish. Seulgi didn't make many people privy to her portfolio (much less a complete stranger) until she was a hundred percent sure that she had crafted the finished product. She still had to adjust the lighting, correct oddities, check the frame. Not to mention this was one of her few forays into portraiture post-college. It wasn't even intended to be anywhere close to the finished product, taken as a test shot with her polaroid rather than with her trusty Canon. The conditions might have been perfect, yes, but the photo was nowhere near it. She was afraid this imperfect photo would not live up to its perfect subject just yet. 

“I- I can't.”

Joy was appalled. “What do you mean you can't? I'm sure that I could sue you for ownership of a photo that carries my likeness without my permission! Besides, aren't you a professional? What is there to be embarrassed about?”

Everything, Seulgi thinks. Imperfection. Awkwardness. Everything. But now wasn't the time to be nervous. She'd arguably already crossed far too many lines. She seemed to squirm in her indecision. "What if you don't like it?"

Joy rolled her eyes. "That's really what you're concerned about right now?"

As if to punctuate the awkwardness of the air, the camera in Seulgi's hands whirred, slowly pushing out the photo like a grocery store receipt. Joy and Seulgi locked eyes, striking lightning. Before she could even blink, Joy leaped from her seat. Within an instant, their hands clashed, darting toward the film.

"Got it!" Joy held the photo up triumphantly. Seulgi tried reaching for it, flailing as Joy simply got on her tiptoes to keep it out of the shorter's reach. How unexpectedly childish from someone who looked so mature. Of course, Seulgi could not win this battle when her genetics had destined her to fail, admitting defeat and relenting to her fate. She watched as Joy lowered the photo to eye view, the teasing smile gradually softening into an unreadable expression. Was it bad?

Joy wordlessly handed the polaroid back to Seulgi, turning toward the bench and scooping up her bag before securing her coat more tightly around her shoulders. 

* * *

"Of course she's just going to walk away! You screwed up big time, Seul!"

"We're just getting to the good part, Seungwan. Stop interrupting!"

"What more is there to say? Doesn't it just end here?"

"No, you idiot, I would've ended the dang chapter if it ended here!"

"Chapter?"

"Anyways..."

* * *

"Are you doing anything today? I'm assuming not, since you appear to have enough free time on your hands to stumble through a public park taking pictures of strangers."

"No, I'm not." Seulgi turned the photo in her hands, looking at the scene it displayed. The pink bloom of the trees formed an arch behind Joy's head, arms crossed and hands neatly folded echoing a recurring horizontality of the image despite the verticality of the frame. Seulgi thinks that her type of photography just might've become people photography. She looks back up at her subject, lively expression and tone drawing sharp contrast with the soft silence of the picture. "Why do you ask?"

"You'll see. Walk with me." Without waiting for Seulgi's response, she simply started back down the path towards the exit of the park, leaving Seulgi with no choice but to follow. 

Trailing slightly behind Joy's long strides, Seulgi had to quicken her steps to match pace. "Where are we going?"

Joy began her explanation. "You see, I'm not the type to spend a whole day lounging in a park. I'm too busy these days." Seulgi looked Joy up and down, as if verifying she were the type. Her businesswoman-like demeanor and professionalism seemed to indicate that this was true. "But..." The taller woman's expression turned a slight bit more regretful, "I do enjoy getting out from time to time. Work had been a little stifling lately. Speaking of, the break is just about over, which is why we're returning to my studio." 

Seulgi was confused. "We?"

"Well, you're walking with me, aren't you?"

The photographer didn't have a response, finding that it was all too easy for Joy to shut her down. It wasn't unfriendly, either. With all of her aimless misdirection in her recent life, it was sometimes refreshing to be dragged around. "So, a studio. Are you a photographer too?"

Joy smiled. "No, I'm on the other side of the lens." Pulling out a business card from her coat pocket, she offers it to Seulgi, who takes the card with avid curiosity. She skims over the contact details, emails, and numbers.

"Joy: model."

Sliding the card in the back of her jean pockets, she snuck not-so-subtle glances at the woman walking ahead of her. With her air of sophisticated confidence, there was no doubt that she had the skill to be a model. Seulgi almost swore that she recognized her face from flipping through the pages of a coffee table magazine.

"You don't know me, do you?" Joy posed. 

"No, I don't, I'm sorry. But I feel like I've seen you somewhere before. Maybe on a billboard or something?" This elicits a restrained chuckle from the model.

"Oh, I don't think I'm big enough to have my own billboard yet, but I've done quite a few shoots here and there."

"You should be."

Joy stops walking, turning around to look at Seulgi for the first time during their spontaneous walk. "Come again?"

"You should be big enough to get your own billboard!" Seulgi gestures toward the skyscrapers towering overhead. "I feel like I can already see your face plastered across the glass."

Whether it was shock or any other emotion that kept Joy from responding, Seulgi had yet to know.

"We're here."

They stopped in front of another glass-encased building, almost indistinguishable from the surrounding architecture excepting the large white letters jutting out from the facade. "Perfect 10 Modeling", the letters read.

Joy swung the door open for Seulgi who she waited to anxiously enter before following in herself. With a curt nod to the receptionist, the model stalked past the entrance area and deeper into the building. Seulgi just happened to be caught up in the storm that the powerful woman generated, whisking after her like a lost leaf trailing the wind of her coattails. Suddenly, Joy ducked into a random room off of one of the long hallways they had been walking down. There was already a backdrop, studio lights on, people milling about adjusting camera stands or wheeling racks of clothing in and out of the room.

The model took a beeline to the center of the room, pulling Seulgi along with her. With a booming voice, she announced to the various staff scattered about the studio.

"I brought our newest photographer."

* * *

Seungwan's eyebrows quirked up. "What?"

"Yep." Seulgi, said popping the p.

"So you're working for a modeling agency now?"

"Apparently, yes."

Seungwan felt exasperated. "You don't even photograph people, why did you ever agree to this?" If it was possible to have secondhand anxiety, Seungwan surely felt the symptoms of it right now. 

Seulgi opened her mouth to respond, but was stopped by the ringing of her phone. She takes a look at the caller ID. "Sorry, Wan, I have to take this."

"Who is it?"

Seulgi grins. "My muse." She stands up from the booth and starts walking toward the exit. "I think this might take a while. I've already paid for everything, so you don't have to worry about it. Maybe grab some boxes and head home? I'll catch up with you later!" The photographer doesn't wait for Seungwan to protest, enthusiastically waving her short goodbye. Conversation over, Seungwan guesses. There was nothing left to do except gather her things and the leftovers and head back to her apartment. Seungwan had a feeling that Irene might like some of these tarts.

* * *

Turning the key and entering, bags of dessert boxes in hand, Seungwan announces, "I'm home! Did you miss me Irene?"

She looked across the room, eyes landing on the genie smiling from her seat by the island. But she couldn't help but direct her gaze to the person across from her...

"Irene, what's my landlord doing here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's the rest of our girls! We're finally branching out! Yes, I know it's a divergence from the main plotline, but I hope y'all still liked it. I don't have the heart to write anything that doesn't include all of our girls, and I've had this idea brewing for the past month so this chapter was definitely a long time coming.


	7. Interlude: Joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joy has a strange encounter.

“Okay, everyone.” Director Choi clapped once to get everyone’s attention. “We’ve gotten all of the shots necessary for the spring collection. Let’s go for an hour lunch break, starting....” After fiddling with a dial on his watch, he punctuated his exclamation with another clap, “...now!” 

The studio breathed a sigh of relief, contrasting with the sudden urgency of the stampede of footsteps rushing to leave for lunch. Relaxing from all of the posing, Joy released the tension from her shoulders and body, slumping almost imperceptibly on her seat in the cross beams of the concentrated studio lights. She rose with all the grace and poise expected of a model, brushing off stray glitter used in the shoot. This “fairy dust” concept was quickly getting on her nerves. Some stylists stayed behind to help Joy out of her outfit, for which she thanked them with a gentle smile.

As she steps toward the exit, she hears the clack of heels approach her. She almost wants to ignore it and walk straight out of the building, but common human decency and the knowledge of who it is stops her from doing so. 

"Joy! Don't leave just yet, let me talk to you for a second." Director Choi says. Swiveling on her heel, she greets the director with a nod, inviting her to continue. "I just wanted to thank you for all of your hard work today. You're always such a... _joy_ to work with!" Joy imagines a snare, tom, and cymbal fall off of a cliff. Though she tries to suppress it, the corner of her mouth quirks up slightly. She's only really worked with this director on a couple shoots, but was already able to grasp that her artistic vision was unmatched, leadership and direction putting every moving piece, from outfits to staff, in their precise place. That being said, Joy was still coming to grips with how different she was during breaks, incredibly cheesy with too many dad jokes than could reasonably fit in her small frame. Even so, the model always found that the director had the uncanny ability to make her comfortable even during long hours of shoots. 

Joy receives the compliment humbly. "Thank you. I really enjoy working with you too."

Choi nudges Joy with her elbow playfully. "Don't have to be so formal, Joy! I hope you trust me as much as I do you. Speaking of trust, I need to let you in on a little secret." The director leans in cautiously, having to go on her tiptoes to reach Joy's height. "Our photographer got food poisoning and had to rush home to attend to his terrible case of diarrhea. He didn't want me to tell anyone this, since he's really embarrassed, but I thought it would be relevant context for the next thing I'm about to ask you." Director Choi then relaxes her heels, swaying slightly on the balls of her feet. "In short, we need to find a new photographer ASAP. I'm going to use this lunch break to make some calls and see if anyone turns up, but since this is really urgent I need all hands on deck. That brings me to you. Because you've now had a fair amount of experience in the industry, I'm sure you have a couple photographers you've worked with that might be suitable for this coming shoot. I hope I'm not asking too much of you to try and contact them!" Choi clasped her hands together in a pleading motion, making a sad, puppy dog-eyed expression as if to seal the deal. Of course Joy couldn't decline. 

"I'll do my best, Director."

Choi beams, exclaiming her thanks as she heads toward the door, likely on her way to her office. "Thank you so much! I owe you big time!"

Joy waits until she disappears down the hall before leaving herself, steps following the all too familiar path to the park two blocks down. She always found herself winding down from shoots by relaxing there, fond of the opportunity to watch the ducks glide across the pond, observe the trees in bloom, or pet dogs on a walk. Everything there felt so natural. No pretenses and no expectations that the stiff studio often generated. All of the odd angles, the directions from the photographers and the staff. Do this. Don't do that. It got stifling sometimes. She understood that her role as a model was to be nothing more than a glorified mannequin, but she was tired of the objectification. In her early days, her budding interest in modeling stemmed from a desire to present both her personality and her love of fashion, but these days there was more of the latter than the former.

Her growing distaste of the contrived environment was in no small part due to horrible encounters with outsourced staff. Though Joy had become incredibly fond of the individuals that she had consistently worked with over her few years of experience, mainly from her own agency, she couldn't say the same for photographers or stylists that had whisked in and out of her shoots. Perhaps it was the knowledge of their temporary relationship that caused them to act that way, but it definitely did not justify how they would treat her with less dignity than a human being deserved. In fact, her feeling of objectification likely arose from the actions of said photographers. 

As her heels clicked down the block, confident stride and chic outfit drawing the attention of various passerbys, Joy thinks back to specific instances that have gradually worn down her passion for her career. She thinks about the older photographers who were generally harmless while others were about, but would sneak a sly comment once everyone was out of earshot. Surprisingly, it was not always the older men who made her skin boil, but the younger ones who were always too forward and intrusive. As if being nearer in age gave them any more of a shot with her when their behavior became increasingly creepy. Once, they had been wrapping up a shoot, and as Joy was almost always one of the last to go home, she had been left behind with the photographer in the break room down the hall. While rifling through the fridge for the iced Americano she had saved herself for later, he put up his arms to form a barrier like a scene out of a bad 70s flick, trapping her between himself and the fridge door. Although Joy asked him politely to move, or if he needed something out of the fridge, he refused to budge until she agreed to give him her number. Of course, she agreed, beginning to read off a random string of digits until she saw the perfect opportunity to knee him in the balls, promptly exiting the studio while he doubled over in pain. 

Needless to say, Joy's past experiences with photographers weren't exactly the best. Not a single one comes to mind that she would want to invite to this shoot, unfortunately for Director Choi.

She was fuming from recalling these occurrences, but found the sight of the park entrance enough to temper her mood. Slowing her pace, she let out a slow exhale, blowing into the chilly March air. She took a moment to marvel at the receding ripples of the pond, taking a seat at her usual bench and closing her eyes. If only more of her photographers could be women... or if only she could find the one that had inspired her to enter this career to begin with. It was all getting to be too exhausting. 

With all of these thoughts of past regrets swimming through her head, she let herself get lost in the sounds of her surroundings. There was the flapping of wings overhead, the rustling of leaves, and gentle footsteps coming up the walkway. She heard a clasp unbuckle, heard the click of a camera shutter, and suddenly, felt the warmth of a hand on her skin. Instinctively, she grabbed their wrist, eyes snapping open.

A satchel slung across her shoulders. A camera juxtaposing it. Black hair. Suede jacket. Beat up converse. Her usually crescent-shaped eyes were wide open in shock, the only thing Joy found unfamiliar about this woman. 

It was her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought it was necessary to narrate from Joy's perspective for added context, albeit short, so here it is! Thank you all so much for your support thus far. I honestly never imagined that I would actually be sitting down writing something like this, but knowing that you guys like it makes me happy! I hope you will like the Joygi stuff as much as the Wenrene stuff hehe, I put a lot of effort into all the aspects of this story : ) 
> 
> P.S. Guess who just found out how to update their icon! Woo!! I'm actually a lot newer to this than you probably think. I hope my inexperience doesn't show too much, but I'm constantly improving, if we look on the brighter side of things.


	8. Laundry Day Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irene occupies herself while Seungwan is out.

It's been a few hours since Seungwan had left, and Irene had already practically run out of productive things to do. She's already cleaned her room, dusted the living room, and taken a walk around the block to get a better understanding of the city around her. Seungwan had suggested to take Irene sightseeing, but she had kindly rejected under the pretense of having all the time in the world to check it out on her own (Really, she would've loved it, but thought that it would be better not to distract Seungwan in the midst of her writing process). 

She glanced at the clock. 12:14 PM. Still about five hours until Seungwan would come home and not nearly enough to fill up that time. Irene slumped on the couch, wrapping her arms around Manen. He was so soft and fluffy, but still didn't quite replace the feeling of hugging Seungwan. Not that she knew yet, but she imagines that it would be very nice. Head half pressed into the cushions, Irene looks at the collection of old films in the television cabinet. It would be a good way to whittle down the hours, but Irene just couldn't manage to watch one without Seungwan. The best part of the experience was always to hear her witty commentaries on the glaring inaccuracies of the science fiction films, or how Irene could vent to her about the inconsistencies within the period dramas. Movies were meant to be watched together.

All of this moping didn't waste nearly enough time, leading Irene to merely become buried in thoughts of Seungwan. Since it was just past noon, maybe she was on a break. Maybe, maybe, it would be a good idea to call her. The genie pulled Seungwan's phone out of her pockets, hesitant to call it her own yet despite the singer's insistence. Turning the metal block in her hands, she looks at the backside covered in stickers and wonders how long Seungwan had this.

She slips into a magic-induced trance, blue wisps forming a vignette around her vision as she recalls memories of Seungwan and Seulgi sitting side by side in a teen's bedroom, plastered with posters of bands, musicians, singers, and guitarists. They talk about upcoming school events, whether they're going to the soccer game next Friday, or what band just released a new album. Every so often they pause to place another sticker on the back of their phones. Sometimes they'll argue about which goes where, about which looks best, about which looks too cheesy. In the end, they always agree, making sure that they put the same one in the exact same place on their respective devices. That way, whenever they are apart, they'll still be connected somehow.

Irene blinks back to the present. I suppose that answers her questions as to why Seungwan would be keeping this. Absentmindedly, she traces the outlines of the stickers of microphones and cameras. The way Irene treats the phone slightly more delicately after that, she would never comment on. With a few swipes, she unlocks the phone and scrolls down to Seungwan's contact. She's lucky that the singer walked her through the basics of navigating this technology the other day, or she would be completely lost by now. Trying not to crack a smile at Seungwan's cheesy contact photo, she presses the call button.

After two rings, she can make out the groan of a long stretch on the other end of the line. Irene starts worrying that now might've not been the best time to call. What if Seungwan was in the middle of a take or an important conversation with the producers? Irene didn't want to pose any inconvenience. Her voice came out a little shakier than she intended. "Hello, Seungwan?"

Chuckling comes through the receiver, Seungwan's laugh enough to chase away all Irene's insecurity. She could practically hear Seungwan smile through the phone. "Yes, it's me. Did you need anything?"

Just hearing her voice was enough. "No, no, I just wanted to check to see how you were doing. I hope I didn't interrupt anything..."

* * *

It wound on like that, the banter and thinly veiled flirting enough to pull Irene from the depths of pessimism that she found herself faced with beforehand. The wish though, that was something new. Even when only half-awake, Seungwan found new ways to surprise the genie. Why wish so small when you had magic at your fingertips? Why not wish to have the world's best voice, or to be the most talented musician? The more Irene learned about the singer, the more she discovered seeming contradictions. All of her talent was coupled with just as much insecurity. All of her ambition was tempered by just as much humility. To wish for more assurance when her talent was more than enough... it seemed cruelly ironic to Irene. Hypocrisy never looked so beautiful. 

Irene sunk even further into the couch, tightening her hold on the chipmunk plush which smelled too enticingly of the girl around which her thoughts never ceased to center on. She shuts her eyes, thinking back to the comfort of her bed this morning. 

* * *

She was half-asleep when she heard rustling in the other room. Though the sounds were muffled, she felt as though she could hear the tossing of fabric and the incessant opening and closing of cabinets. Irene dug her head into the sheets to escape the noises. This method, of course, was still not enough to stop Seungwan from her incoherent mumblings. 

"Damn it..." Muffled rustling. "...Laundry... Don't have anything to wear." A cabinet closes. Another drawer opens. The gliding of pulled cotton. "This will have to do."

Irene doesn't think anything more of it, drifting back to sleep as the sounds quiet down.

* * *

The present Irene bolts upright on the couch. Hey Ferb, I know what we're going to do today! Irene shouldn't have agreed to watch that cartoon series with Seungwan.

At least she now had a new mission to accomplish: laundry! Knowing where Seungwan kept the bin, Irene crept over to the door of Seungwan's room. With a little apprehension, she opened the door, doing her best to avert her eyes in case this could be considered a breach of privacy, instead making a beeline for the woman's closet and grabbing the laundry basket, hastily making her retreat.

After walking into her own room and tossing old clothes into the bin, Irene slides on her shoes and a coat. With thoughts of lavender fabric softener, she joyously heads towards the laundromat she saw down the street while on her walk earlier that day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is connected to the next one, but feels kind of like a standalone chapter, so I decided to end it here. I'm going to be posting this along with the next one because it's so short, so I'll see you in the next chapter real soon : ))


	9. Laundry Day Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim Yerim spots a suspicious individual leaving Seungwan's unit.

Now, it's very important to note that Kim Yerim was not the type of person to be paranoid. This neighborhood wasn't the most dangerous in the city, and hardly anything eventful occurred here. In her eighteen years of life, she hadn't seen a mugging, or any other crime for that matter, and knew almost everyone on block. If there were ever a suspicious sort, she wouldn't be the first person to jump to conclusions or freak out.

But as she was making the rounds around the apartment building, checking up on some of the tenants that were home, she did find it very suspicious to witness a woman she had never seen before so happily exit Seungwan's unit with a large basket. Full of what, Yerim couldn't tell from this distance. A robbery in broad daylight? 

The teenager had half a mind to confront the woman right then and there, but in the case that this was an actual robbery, she didn't feel like going toe to toe with a polished criminal. Polished, Yerim assumes, because of how much finesse and confidence the individual exuded even after she had just made off with Seungwan's valuables... almost as if she didn't commit a crime at all. Her suspicion heightens.

Yerim wasn't nearly close enough to Seungwan to risk her life for the singer's things, but felt that she owed something to her for always paying her rent on time and overall being a very nondisruptive tenant. The least she could do was try to memorize the thief's appearance in case she needed to provide a testimony for the authorities. Thus, Yerim decides that the only reasonable course of action is to tail her. It was not like she had five more tenants to check on. Pretending to loiter on one of the railings, Yerim waits for the perpetrator to descend the staircase before following at a safe distance. 

She didn't know the first thing about stalking someone, acting perhaps even more unusual than the potential criminal. Though she tried to be less overt, she couldn't help but sneak glances (more like openly glare) at the woman she was tailing. To anyone passing her on the street, she looked like she had forgotten her glasses at home with how often she was trying to squint to determine the contents of the basket. In fact, she had to use that excuse when a kind man asked her if she needed help. 

Luckily, the stranger was far too jovial to notice Yerim's failed attempts to remain inconspicuous. The teen had just worked up the courage to close their distance by a meter when the criminal suddenly turned into a building. Yerim dawdled outside, lightly stepping around the concrete sidewalk as she gazed up at the sign. Of course, she was already familiar with the location. "Kim's Laundromat". It was her uncle's business. She didn't pin him to be the type to run a place where _criminals_ gathered, but then again, today has been full of surprises.

Behaving as casually as humanly possible, she thinks, Yerim swings through the glass doors pretending to be on a short visit. She sees her younger cousin manning the counter, the girl sitting on a stool paging through one of the random magazines they left out for the patrons. "Hey, Eunji! How's it going?" Yerim asked as she approached the girl, donning a comically large smile.

The fifteen year old peered at Yerim through the gaps in her bangs. "What are you doing here? Are you taking over my shift, cause Dad should've let you come over earlier. I have so much homework to do." She stretches her arms over the counter in a dramatic fashion. She sure looked busy to Yerim. "No, I'm just checking in." 

Yerim tried to scan the laundromat for the woman, eyes unable to find her. She must've disappeared behind the wall of laundry machines. Noticing her odd behavior, Eunji questions, "So, what are you _really_ doing—" Yerim cuts her off with a shushing noise, stalking over to the basket that the stranger had left on a nearby table. "Rude, but ok..." Eunji turned back to her magazine.

With anticipation, and a little apprehension, Yerim pulled back the cover of the basket, hands getting clammy, sweat lining her brow. An inner drumroll resounded in her chest, growing with her swelling heartbeat. And... there were only clothes. Only clothes? Yerim sighs, taking a seat at the table across from the basket.

"What did you think you would find, Yerim?" Eunji comments without looking up from the pages covering last year's winter collection. "Surprised that this lady came to a laundromat to do _laundry_?" Yerim shot a glare at the younger girl. The youth these days really had no respect for their elders. Burying her head into her arms, Yerim drowns in embarrassment over the whole situation. She felt misled. She felt betrayed. Most of all, she felt very, very stupid. 

"You sure you don't know this lady?" 

She groans. "What do you want, Eunji?" She asks, shooting annoyed frowns at her cousin.

The younger just points from her stool, eyebrow quirked in confusion. Yerim's gaze follows the path of Eunji's eyeline, landing on the woman fiddling with the dials on the laundry machine, seeming perplexed as to how they function. Interesting. She didn't look as old as she seemed. Perhaps Yerim's initial suspicion was not in vain. She calmly approaches the stranger, sneakers squeaking across the green and white checkered linoleum tiles. Nonchalantly, she suggests, "Let me help you, miss."

The woman turned to Yerim with a smile. "Would you? That would be very helpful."

Wow. This lady was the most stunning non-criminal that Yerim had ever seen. She almost felt like blushing. Backing away from their proximity and losing her previous confidence, she pulls a quarter out of her back pocket and pushes it into the coin slot. With the ease of an individual who has done too many loads of laundry in their life, Yerim begins her demonstration in earnest. "Here, you just insert a quarter..." she moves the dials to the correct settings for general washes, "Set these dials, put in the laundry, and..." she pushes the power button. "Ta-da!" She finishes her display with a dramatic hand gesture. "The machine will do the laundry for you! Modern magic, right?" 

"Was I supposed to put clothes in there before you pressed the button?"

Yerim whipped around, watching the empty metal cylinder spin around mockingly, as if inanimate laundry machines could be mocking. She forced a laugh. "That was... just for demonstration purposes! Let me get your basket for you." Too eager to reprimand the situation, she rushed over to the laundry bin.

"Be careful! We just—" Eunji tried to warn. But it was too late, Yerim's face had already met the tile, slipping like a cartoon character on a banana peel. "waxed the floors..." her younger cousin finished dejectedly.

Rolling over, her soul simply slipped out of her body as she stared at the fluorescent lights overhead. This was a series of unfortunate events from which she could not escape. Not even Eunji, that damn child, moved from her stool to help the poor girl splayed on the floor of this laundromat. Was this really how she was going to go? She should just resign to her fate now. 

Closing her eyes, half in wincing from the pain, and half in defeat, the stinging bright surroundings disappeared from her vision. Recede into the dark Kim Yerim. Just as she was about to accept the sweet scythe of the grim reaper, an angel pulled her from the dark.

"Are you okay?"

She opened her eyes, a heavenly face entering her vision. With the lights pouring over her, forming some sort of everyday halo, Yerim questioned whether or not she had arrived in the good place. If not for the whirring of the laundry machines and the flipping of magazine pages, she would've been convinced.

"You're really strange." The woman chuckled, offering a hand to help Yerim up. 

The girl replied as she stood, brushing herself off, "I get that a lot." Eunji laughs from behind the counter and Yerim has to restrain herself from flinging a quarter at her face.

"Strange isn't a bad thing. It's refreshing."

At least _someone_ was able to find the positive in this situation. "Slipping on tiles isn't very refreshing to me."

"It was refreshing to watch. Do you still want to help me with this laundry, or should I let you sit out on an injury?"

Yerim turned to the stranger. This lady must be just as insane as her. How does she still want her help after that excellent display of perfect grace and balance? Apparently, Yerim's confusion was well-received by the beautiful lady, who provided a prompt explanation. "I just assumed you knew more about these machines — excepting your blunder with not putting in any clothes."

She just nods, not wanting to wallow any longer in her failure than she already has. 

As they're sorting out the reds from the whites, the stranger strikes up a conversation. "So what's your name?"

"Me? I'm Kim Yerim, my uncle owns this place."

"That explains why you know your way around. I'm Joohyun, by the way."

After shoveling the loads into the machine, Yeri clicked the door shut, leaning against the machines. Since they were on the topic of introductions, Yerim figured that it was as good a time as ever to start getting her burning questions answered. "Have you lived here very long? I feel like I haven't seen you around."

"Oh, I just moved in recently. About two weeks ago."

Yerim adjusts her voice to a more genuinely inquisitive tone, finding it much easier to hide her wariness verbally than physically. "Is your apartment around here? I actually live in this area."

"Yes. It's just a street down."

Joohyun's story checks out thus far, but Yerim wants to move straight to the center of the issue. "Oh wow, that's the complex where I live. Meet the landlord yet?"

"No, I've been meaning to, but haven't had the chance."

Yerim extends a hand, grinning. "Well, you're meeting them now."

Joohyun looks incredibly bewildered. 

"I know what you're thinking. Am I way too young to be a landlord? Yes. You're right. But my parents own the place and, with how busy they are these days, I've practically become the de facto landlord."

Joohyun has nothing to say other than, "Nice to meet you."

"Introductions aside, this all brings me to my main concern." Yeri feels very pleased at these turn of events. Finally, all of her embarrassment could be chalked up as the means to an end. The end being understanding the circumstances under which Joohyun landed here, in Seungwan's apartment, and without Seungwan telling her. She guesses that this finally broke Seungwan's reputation of being an indistinguishable tenant.

She takes a breath before unleashing her torrent of questions. "When did Seungwan get a new roommate and why didn't she tell me? Seulgi hardly moved out a few weeks ago. Is she trying to avoid paying the other half of the rent? I won't postpone the deadline now that I know she has a new roommate. What's your relation to Seungwan anyway? Do you—"

The sound of the laundry cycle ending stops Yerim.

"I would answer all of those, but the laundry's done, and I should really get to folding these before Seungwan comes home," Joohyun casually remarks.

Yerim won't let her get away that easy. "Should we take this conversation back to your apartment?"

* * *

She didn't expect Joohyun to agree.

Now, it's very important to note that Kim Yerim was not the type of person to be paranoid. She's seen the interiors of almost all the units at this point, and found that out of all of them, this one was by far the most... normal looking. Even before, when Seulgi had been here, there were some interesting decor decisions. Yerim really must've gone insane to suspect anything of this woman. 

She was polite too, offering Yerim a seat at the kitchen island and a cup of tea, calmly folding laundry as she answered any and all of the teen's questions.

The long story short, Joohyun had moved in two weeks ago after Seungwan had put up an internet ad looking for a new roommate. Though she was from a rural region, she had moved to the city to get a change of pace and pursue new job opportunities. The only dubious thing about this narrative was that Seungwan was resourceful enough to find a new roommate so quickly. From Yerim's short interactions with the girl, she was sure that she would've been panicking or despairing over Seulgi's departure for several days before moving onto more practical things.

Yerim had even asked for more background to try and find any holes, but there were none. What was she doing with her education? Joohyun had attended a community college as a result of her family's stringent expenses, taking a year off to help out at her family restaurant. What kind of hobbies did she have? Doing laundry and ironing, if that counted as a hobby. According to Joohyun, it was very calming, and she loved the scent of lavender fabric softener. Favorite color? Purple. It was her best friend's favorite.

If anything, the young woman sounded too good to be true.

In fact, Yerim was actually starting to like her. She was a welcome change as opposed to Seungwan's apprehensiveness whenever they talked. Joohyun seemed receptive to her conversation, truly seeming to enjoy Yerim's company. The girl couldn't say the same of Seungwan, who always acted as though she was in trouble whenever Yerim dropped by. The lasting impact of being an honors student, the landlord assumes. 

A few hours later, Yerim was still sitting at the island, Joohyun long finished with the laundry. After Yerim suggested she leave to complete her task of checking in which the other tenants, Joohyun responded with her own request for Yerim to return to the apartment and keep her company as she waited for Seungwan to come back. The request was relayed so matter-of-factly that Yerim had no choice but to accept. They had wasted the day away with various conversations, Yerim venting to Joohyun about classroom gossip, like her horrid seat partner who never brought their own pencils and never returns any of hers. Joohyun was actively listening, relating to the girl with experiences of her own.

Yerim felt that she had garnered a lot more about the woman than she would've initially assumed had she not embarked on this bizarre diversion. Despite being older by eight years, Joohyun was much more playful and childlike than Yerim would've thought. She had no problem bantering with Yerim over how to properly fold laundry and did not hesitate to engage in a competition to see who could fold faster. Through this, Yerim found out that Joohyun was also competitive. It was like her hands were on fire, completely blowing Yerim out of the water in this spontaneous round to crown the laundry-folding queen.

They had now seemingly run out of things to talk about, Joohyun deciding instead to offer snacks to the younger girl, who readily obliged. It was a convenient excuse not to talk, since Joohyun had picked up a call from Seungwan. Not wanting to eavesdrop (surprising considering the lengths with which Yerim first took to follow Joohyun), she looked around the apartment, munching on the potato chips that Joohyun had given her. Her eyes landed on the picture of Seulgi and Seungwan on the hallway cabinet. Cute. They always did look close whenever Yerim caught them leaving on another one of their grocery runs, more like late-night snack runs now that she thought about it. 

Her bowl clattered to the ground, rattling with the raucousness of hard plastic on wood. It wasn't the photo frame that had surprised her, but rather, what was next to it. That ornate porcelain vase.

Yerim heard a string of sputters from the kitchen and a hasty end of a phone call. Irene came clamoring into the living room, eyes darting around the room and arms held up, ready for battle. “What happened? Are you okay?”

She didn't answer, only staring in confusion at the vase in front of her. "Where did you get that?"

"Seungwan said she picked it up at a garage sale." Joohyun looks at the bowl on the floor, squatting down to pick up the stray potato chips now scattered on the hardwood. Strangely, she doesn't seem mad, only minorly inconvenienced. Yerim is still caught in her stupor to notice. 

Scruntinizing the intricate porcelain and gold engravings, there was no question that it was the family heirloom that she had often marveled at as a child. Yet, the last time she had seen this was at her grandmother's house, certainly not Seungwan's apartment. In both, she recognized it as a very unconventional interior design choice. 

"Did you happen to pick it up in the suburbs?"

"Well, I'm not quite sure where exactly she got it. Why are you so interested?"

The question doesn't register in her head. "Do you mind if I look closer?"

Joohyun doesn't see the harm in it, and doesn't pin the girl for one to be needlessly reckless, contrary to all of the fumbling she had witnessed earlier that day.

"Sure." She picks up the remainder of the mess, carrying it to the kitchen and leaving Yerim to her own devices.

Yerim steps up to the ornament, traces the frolicking bunny engravings with her fingers, puts a steady palm on the cold porcelain, and rubs, pads of her fingers brushing across the smooth surface. Yerim doesn't know what she expects. Of course, nothing occurred. Her grandmother was wrong, she supposes. Shaking her head, she wonders why she had even tried. She was too old to believe in magic anyway.

She pads back into the kitchen, taking up her usual position. 

"Find anything interesting?" Joohyun probes, placing her elbows on the granite. 

"Not really," Yerim shrugs, changing the topic. "Do you want to hear about what happened in my science class last week?"

* * *

Joohyun absentmindedly glanced at the clock as Yeri continued her rant about the horrible customer that entered her cafe the other day. Fifteen after seven, give or take a couple of minutes. Seungwan should be home soon.

She heard the rattling of keys in the entrance to their apartment. Speak of the devil.

"Yerim, won't your parents be concerned if you're not back home for dinner?"

The teen checks her watch, eyes widening at the time. "Wow, I didn't realize I've been over for this long! My parents aren't around nearly enough these days, but I'll still be in for a lecture if I don't leave soon."

Joohyun just nods. 

"Let me just finish this tea before I go." As she lifted the mug to her lips, Seungwan made her fateful entrance.

"I'm home! Did you miss me Irene?"

Joohyun heard the shuffling of shoes in the hallway, footsteps approaching the kitchen. They come to a sudden halt.

"Irene, what's my landlord doing here?"

Yerim turned to Joohyun. "Who's Irene?"

"Fun nickname," The woman responded dismissively, before looking at Seungwan. "I met her at the laundromat! It was nice to have company while you were gone, so I invited her in." Seungwan appeared surprised, but not too concerned, thankfully. She continues, "I hope you don't mind. She's actually just leaving. Right, Yerim?

The teen places her mug down with a clang. "Uh, yeah. I'm just going." She got up from her chair as Seungwan brought over her take-home bags of pastries. "I've actually been wanting to speak to you, Seungwan." The singer shrinks. "When were you going to tell me that you had a new roommate?"

Seungwan brings a hand to the back of her neck, scratching, a nervous habit. She stutters as she searches for an explanation. "I- I was meaning to, but I've just been busing with writing lately and..."

Yeri's eyes give off a mischievous glint, a youthful twist to the professional manner with which she was now addressing Seungwan. "I knew that you wouldn't be able to give a straight answer." As she steps toward the door, she leaves a few final comments. "You're lucky that I like her. Don't think that this gets you out of her half of the rent this month, though! I'll see you next week to collect it. Goodbye, Joohyun!" Sliding on her coat, with a wave, she slips out of the door.

"Well that was weird and unexpected." Seungwan sets her bags on the table. "Manen wasn't enough company?"

"Apparently not," Irene answers. "And when I met her, I could see a burning desire. She really wanted someone to talk to."

Seungwan nods understandingly, finding it heartwarming how kind the genie was. "Sounds like you got a lot of talking done. Almost seems like she knows you more than I do."

"I wouldn't say that."

"It does seem like I missed out on something, though. Joohyun?" Seungwan asks.

"It's a name."

"I didn't know we had to develop a new identity for you. I wish I was in on the whole backstory planning process." Seungwan pouts, expression then shifting towards amusement. "Like a secret agent! Were you interrogated? I know Yerim can be a little intrusive sometimes, but she usually means well." A little intrusive was an understatement. She thought back to the day when Yerim caught her in the middle of songwriting, shooting a relentless barrage of questions about everything from the process to the producers.

"It's not much of a backstory, I just answered with the truth."

Seungwan became more inquisitive. "So what _is_ the truth?"

"You've already been introduced to the Genie Incorporated side of things. I don't have much of an identity outside of that."

"You don't have to lie to me. I think that you're full of identity." The singer laughed humorously. "But I'm still curious. You had to pick up all of that snark from somewhere."

"I guess the truth, then, in the way that you're thinking of, is my first life." Seungwan's eyebrows shoot up, leading Irene to jump in and correct her assumption. "No, no, nothing like reincarnation. By first life, I just mean everything before the genie situation. It wasn't anything special, just a quaint rural life." Her expression turned nostalgic and contemplative. "I remember days at the family restaurant, watching patrons come in and out. I was always happiest seeing the smiles on their faces when we served a particularly good dish. There were so many different people to talk with, banter with. That's where the snark derived, if you're still wondering." Her lips drew upward in a gentle smile. "It was nice."

Seungwan couldn't help but marvel at the beautiful sense of calm that Irene had in her reminiscing. Her eyes traced the genie's lineaments as she was speaking, watching the ebb and flow of the curves of her lips altering to fit around the sounds of vowels and consonants. Needless to say, she was a little distracted, yet still engaged enough to imagine scenes of Irene in simple clothes, hair pulled up as she waltzed between tables of diners. "It sounds lovely."

"It was." As if suddenly snatched from her pleasant daydreams, her expression became distant. "Then the organization came and swooped me up."

"You couldn't stop them?"

Irene chuckled sardonically. "Stop a supranational magical organization? As if small rural girl had the power to do that." Tone suddenly serious, Irene's face was tinged with silent melancholy. "You'll find that geniehood is an infinite debt. We're always paying it back through granting the wishes of our masters."

The bitter truth of that comment made Seungwan resigned. "I don't want to feel like a debt to you."

"You're not." Expression softening, Irene steps toward her, wrapping her small hands around Seungwan's comfortingly. "You feel like a freedom I've never had."

Seungwan took on a redder hue, silenced from making any further comments. Irene withdrew her hands, moving instead to peruse the bags of leftovers Seungwan had left on the island. "I mean, no other master would've brought me dessert." She beams.

"What if I said they weren't for you?" Seungwan smirked as Irene's hands moved toward her hips, striking an indignant pose with an incredulous expression to match. Eyes full of delight, Seungwan teased, "Maybe I brought them for Joohyun. I feel like I never really got that question answered, by the way. Where does the name come from?"

"Technically, I did answer, but I'll humor you." The nostalgic expression returns. "It was my first name — my real name. Back when I was a person and not a genie."

"Could I call you Joohyun?"

The genie's head tilted slightly, "Is there a particular reason for the change?"

"I'd like to refer to you as a person, not just a genie. You mean more to me than that. Unless, you don't want me to, of course."

Her smile widened beyond what Seungwan had ever seen before, presenting an evident counter to the latter option. Seungwan would do anything to keep seeing her smile like that.

"Okay then, Joohyun." Seungwan pulled out a box of red velvet cake. "I believe these desserts are for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The girls are now all officially here! This was such a fun chapter to write. Maybe I let my silliness get the best of me here haha! I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it!!
> 
> Also, per the request of one of my lovely readers, I'm now crossposting on AFF! If you prefer that platform, you can check it out there. I'm really new to the platform, so if you see any flubs, let me know in the comments there!


	10. Remember You Exist...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungwan can't sleep.

Seungwan feels the sheets prick at her back. Why does she feel like she's lying on a bed of nails? She paid a good five hundred bucks for this mattress, and she'll be damned if she couldn't sleep on it. Just keep adjusting until comfortable. You'll be fine, Seungwan.

Except she wasn't. Five tosses and six turns later, she was still very uncomfortable and very much awake. It didn't help that she had gnawing anxiety at the fact that she hadn't heard back from the producers yet. Usually, they would update her with progress every other day, but all she was experiencing for the past week was radio silence. She would drop in to the studio to check on them, but that would be an extremely weird thing to do at... Seungwan rolled over to check the time... 1:43 AM. Definitely couldn't drive by now, although she did consider whether or not a stray security guard would open the door for her.

Closing her eyes for one final attempt at tackling the sandman, she inhaled slowly, let her exhales come at the same pace. She imagined the sea, imagined waves, imagined bobbing boats and buoys and birds and all of the B words she could think of, excepting one, but none brought her closer to sleep. Screw tackling the sandman, she wished she could strangle him right now.

She sits upright. Maybe a glass of water would help, not that it ever did, but it was worth a shot. Maybe she could throw it right in the sandman's face. Now here she was threatening mythical beings. She really needed sleep.

Using her feet to feel around for her bear slippers on the floor, her toes touched the soft fuzz, sliding them on. Her hands instinctively grabbed her glasses off her bedside table, putting them on as she stands. Trudging to the kitchen, flicking on the dim counter lights, she grabs a glass from the cabinet and turns on the tap. The sound of the running faucet resounded in the small kitchen. Little things were always so loud at night. Not wanting to wake up Joohyun, Seungwan adjusted the handle to slow the flow to a drip. She would rather risk her impatience than a pouty genie. Actually, she might be adorable drowsy. Seungwan resisted the temptation of resetting the faucet to full force, instead leaning on the counter, arm muscles gradually tiring from having to prop up a glass now only half full.

To pass the time, she begun to count the drops. Drip. One. Drop. Two. Drip. Three. Step. Four. Step?

"You're awake at this hour?" Joohyun appeared in the corner of her vision, leaning against the door frame of her room. 

Seungwan startles, fumbling and almost dropping her glass into the sink. She catches it, but not before spilling some water on her heart print pajama pants. She would be a lot less disappointed if she hadn't waited about four minutes for the glass to drip drop it's way to being filled.

Turning her head to face Joohyun, trying to mask her pained expression, Seungwan responds, "You scared me! With how stealthy you are sometimes, I could almost believe that you had the ability to disappear and appear at will." Joohyun shoots back an incredulous expression. "But yeah," Seungwan continues, "I'm still awake. I could ask the same of you, you know. What are you up to?"

"Just out on the balcony. Just thinking." The genie shrugs. 

Seungwan takes a sip, eyebrows raising slightly. "Oh really, what are you thinking about?"

"Care to join me and find out?" Joohyun smirked, "Unless you're too busy sitting here waiting for your glass to fill up drop by drop."

A red blush crossed Seungwan's cheeks, thankfully obscured by the dim lighting. Her usually boisterous voice grew small. "I didn't mean for you to see any of that."

Joohyun chuckled, moving from her position to take Seungwan's free hand, tugging gently. "So are you joining me or not?"

Seungwan just nods, too preoccupied with how soft Joohyun's hand feels to reply. 

Before she knows it, they've stepped into the crisp night air, Seungwan wishing she had worn more than her faded old high school sweatshirt. Her toes contracted at the feeling of the wind coming through the hole in her left slipper. 

On the other hand, Joohyun looked quite comfortable. She had even less than Seungwan on, only a plain white t-shirt and sweats. At least there were no holes in her slippers. The singer didn't question it, chalking it all up to a magical cold resistance of some sort. There were a lot of things about Joohyun that were just not to be explained.

The shivers are replaced by the feeling of warm skin on her arm as she leaned on the railing of the balcony. Seungwan throws a look Joohyun's way. It was not a rejection of their proximity, more like a question.

"You wanted some warmth," Joohyun says, matter-of-factly.

"How did you—" Seungwan stops herself mid-sentence, lips forming an 'o' before nodding in understanding. "Right. Genie stuff."

"I don't really have to read your desires to tell that you're shivering, Seungwan."

"Nice to know that your wit never takes any off-hours."

Joohyun's eyes glitter with the reflections of streetlights. "It's a 24/7 thing." As a car whizzes by, 200 feet away, Joohyun's eyes appear to flash with amusement, the headlights seeming to ignite the glow of her irises. "Guess you'll have to get used to it."

Seungwan shoots back, "What if it gets boring?"

Joohyun's eyebrow quirks up, half suspicious, half offended. "Calling me boring already?"

Seungwan's laugh seems to carry itself over and out into the night sky. "No, never."

With that, they grow silent. Not uncomfortable, a nice kind of quiet. But Seungwan finds her eyes glancing about, lingering on Joohyun longer than usual, noticing how wistful, how thoughtful she looks. 

What is she looking at? Does she notice the empty streets, watch the stagnant streetlights interrupted by rhythms of cars going by? Does she see the high rises a ways to their left, giving off low ember light from some windows, forming a haphazard pattern across the facade, a patchwork of people still awake like they are?

She must be, because she starts talking. "What do you think they're doing? Are they talking in quiet voices because their walls are thin and they don't want to wake the neighbors?"

"Quite the overactive imagination, Joohyun. I was thinking that they were dancing around their living room, a quiet slow dance. Every so often they will look out their penthouse window and see the same view we are."

The roll of Joohyun's eyes doesn't match the softness of her smile. "And you call me imaginative."

They played a game like that, watching stray people go by and guessing their stories. There was a group of men walking down the street below, some decked in leather jackets, others having a smoke. Were they going to a party? Drunk from pre-gaming, miscalculating the strength of playful nudges and almost shoving their friends into the street? Were they corporates too sick of their nine to five jobs, ready to let the weekend send them flying before they smack into the asphalt of another bleak Monday? Maybe they were reckless college students, here in the city for a taste of freedom that they never got when they were back home?

"About half of them have beards. There's no way that they're college students!"

"Joohyun, you clearly have not met half of the dudes who were at my high school. I'm convinced that none of them were ever taught how to use a razor. Let's just say that it's too hard to tell from here."

"I would tell you to get your eyes checked, but I already know that your prescription is horrible."

Seungwan squints, playfully pushing up her glasses as if proving a point. "Fine, then chalk it up to my horrible vision. At least it's not hard to tell that they're having fun."

Folding her arms, a satisfied expression crosses Joohyun's face. "That's one thing we can agree on."

Seungwan rests one arm on the railing, bringing the other down to turn more comfortably towards Joohyun. She rests her face in her palm, leaning in inquisitively. "Do you think about these things often?"

The genie pauses for a second in thought. "I suppose I do. I like thinking about people, their lives."

The singer recalls the time that Joohyun had laid out her desires like arranging a cheese platter, delicate finger-foods ready for tasting. "So psychoanalyzing everyone isn't unique to a master, is it?"

"To the contrary, I believe. Yes, it's true that I can ruminate on any passersby, but with masters, I have a lot more information at my disposal, if that makes sense." Seungwan nods without remark, feeling as though Joohyun wishes to say more. The silence allows her to continue. "I admit that I'm used to watching humanity from a distance. I suppose that with all these years of my removed observation, I've developed a sort of habit towards pondering people's motivations and how they've shaped their lives — how they ended up where they are."

"You could be some sort of..." Seungwan takes a moment to recall the proper terms, "...renowned psychologist or anthropologist with all of the information you've collected by now."

"That would certainly be a feat, wouldn't it? Though I have to admit that, no, I wouldn't. The longer I've lived, the more I've realized that two centuries has still not been nearly enough time to completely understand humanity. I don't think even a thousand years could bring me any closer." Humans always found ways to surprise her. Seungwan always did, even now.

The object of her thoughts looks across the dark city skyline, asking Joohyun a question without meeting her eyes. "Weren't you human once?" 

"I was — Joohyun was, a long time ago."

"Doesn't being human clarify the human condition, if not a little bit?"

Seungwan is surprisingly introspective, Joohyun notes. Oftentimes, she can fumble, can be awkward, sometimes even be a bumbling fool, loud to overcompensate for silent insecurities. And yet other times, she's like this. Quiet, reserved, an attentive listener. Joohyun supposes that all of that songwriting, all of those investigations into love, doing that could make anyone a poet, a philosopher-king. In a previous era, perhaps Seungwan would be heralded as a thinker. A writer under a pseudonym. An anonymous wonder.

But we're in the 21st century now. Everyone thinks these days. They think about what they'll have for lunch, think about why the sky is blue, why the tide comes to shore. Humanity's discovered so much, found so little. Of all of the knowledge in the universe, all they have is what they've collected about this tiny speck in the sea of it all. They build their telescopes and observatories, try to see so far, try to spot a distant island bobbing in the ocean of stars. But how much can you know from only looking at something? Rather it be that you touch it, place the earth, the stars, the galaxies and cradle them within your hands. Let them filter through like grains of sand slipping through grasping fingers.

It is so much easier to think than to touch. 

Even these thoughts aren't shared unless in novels, unless they get on the New York Times' Best Sellers List. Unless your thoughts are monetized, they don't mean anything to anyone. Your advice, deep musings about the universe, they aren't valuable unless someone has to pay for them. Joohyun thought otherwise, of course, but she wondered if anyone else still did. 

"Does thinking about love bring you any closer to understanding it, Seungwan?"

"I guess not, but I think that being _in_ love might."

"Have you been in love to know?" Joohyun knows the answer already, she assumes. She knows Seungwan's dating history, a long list of exactly zero names. She can't help but feel it was better this way.

Seungwan looks at Joohyun, watches her eyes shift as they reflect the glow of the city at night. "Not yet." Seungwan breaks their gaze. "I think I could, though, fall in love." She closes her eyes, eyelashes gently overlapping like the bristles of a paintbrush. Juxtaposed against the steel and glass backdrop, Joohyun thinks that she ought to take a picture. But she wasn't Seulgi. She didn't think that any amount of posing or professional expertise would do her subject justice. Or maybe she was the kind of muse that could make any photo beautiful. Joohyun didn't have a camera to find out, so she resigns to continuing their conversation.

"Being human wouldn't help me understand being human any more than a bacterium would looking through a microscope at its own petri dish. When we're in the thralls of something, whether it be a roller coaster ride, the human condition, or even..." Her eyes naturally gravitate to Seungwan, "...love itself, we never stop to truly understand why." She pauses. "Well, I suppose we do, sometimes. Humans try to rationalize their existence so often. But it's a pointless kind of inquiry. We either never stop for long enough to actually understand why we exist, or we stop for so long that we forget about existing entirely."

Seungwan makes no move to respond, just lets the cool air surround her, already enveloped in the sound of Joohyun's voice, enveloped in a new understanding of life. The genie always gave her a new perspective. 

Joohyun went on, "I feel like that was a really long-winded way of saying a simple answer. Humanity's complex."

"I understand."

Joohyun can't help but laugh. "I guess a subsidiary point is kind of that we _don't_ understand — that we won't."

"Isn't that okay too? I think existing might just be more important than understanding why."

"You might be right. I've always been one of those people who has taken so long to think about the why that I've forgotten the how."

"Then remember now."

"Remember?"

Seungwan adjusts herself, takes Joohyun's hands in her own, catching the genie off guard.

"Seungwan, what are you—"

"You can feel my palms, right? Rough?"

She nods as the singer traces her fingertips across Joohyun's.

"And you can feel these fingertips? All of the callouses from years pressed to strings?"

Another nod.

Suddenly, Seungwan pulls Joohyun close, wraps her arms around her. Joohyun is enveloped in the scent of vanilla, of fresh laundry. Her hair is as soft as her sweater, so much so that you can't tell where one ends and the other begins. Her hug, even softer, like caressing the edges of a cloud. But it's electric, too. Like the static of a rustling blanket. Like a cumulonimbus. 

"And you can feel this hug? Feel a place of warmth even on this cold night?"

Joohyun doesn't nod this time. She's too busy thinking about how fast her heart is beating, too busy remembering the feeling of calloused fingertips and rough hands, feeling the wisps of the edges of Seungwan's hair brush against her cheek in the slow breeze. She knows that Seungwan didn't point it out, knows that Seungwan didn't direct her attention to this particular feeling, but as her heart slams against her ribcage, she almost thinks she can feel Seungwan's beating back, as if their hearts were competing in a race, still miles away from the finish line. 

Seungwan pulls back, leaving Joohyun still chasing the edges of an island where the scent of vanilla is carried over waves of hair and wool. 

She comes back. To this world where the buildings scrape the sky, where the steel is unfeeling, where the magic is nearly dead. The sharp April air bites at her cheeks. Her hands tremble, none to hold until Seungwan slips her own back into Joohyun's. Strangely, they tremble more, even if Seungwan is a heater, radiating like a bonfire on a lonely beach. All Joohyun has to do is put up her hands to the flame, feel the warmth. She made things simple like that.

"Do you remember?"

Joohyun wasn't sure what she was supposed to garner from all of that. It seems that all Seungwan has left her with is shaky hands and a racing heart, a memory she could carry across lifetimes. 

Seungwan takes her silence as its own reply. "As long as you're with me, I want you to remember that you exist."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly this chapter sounded a lot like me having a conversation with myself. I think that most of the time, the conversations between all of the characters are very reminiscent of the way I talk with my own friends, or even the internal monologue I have with myself. I guess it's interesting? I know this one was kind of slow, kind of a divergence from how I usually write. Actually, it's a lot more representative of the things that I write for myself. I hope you all still liked it, even so.
> 
> Well, I digress. We're already at the tenth chapter! Woo!! Also, for those who don't know yet, this story is now on AFF! Check it out there if you prefer, though I haven't really found a good way to put author's notes per chapter yet haha. Anyway, thanks for reading! I hope you stay safe and have a great day : ))


	11. ...Because I Exist With You...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joohyun and Seungwan spend a day doing nothing, for the most part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a couple announcements before we get into the chapter!
> 
> Firstly, if you don't yet know, I've now uploaded this fic on AFF! If you prefer, make sure to go check it out there : )
> 
> Also, I saw that I got a few readers off of twitter! For those of you sharing my story, thank you so much, I really appreciate it. I thought that it would be a good idea to share my twitter account in case any of you want to tag me or pm me. The username is @bluesandpaper. I'm not very active on it, and have only made the account a few months ago. That being said, if you're interested in having more direct conversations with me, I might be more inclined to checking it more often! I'm a little shy with internet interactions, surprisingly, so I hope you don't fault me for it. I do really enjoy talking to all of you!!
> 
> Finally, I made playlists for this story!! There's in total, nine. Since I listen to music practically 24/7, and since I really enjoy making playlists, I got a little too into it (I have upwards to about 150 other playlists in total now, and if you want to check them out, that would be cool). There's one for every character, two for the two pairings, and two for the story as a whole. It covers quite a few genres, and the songs I've put are what I feel relate best to the characters or the vibe of the story. Don't read too much into them, though. Sometimes I just put a song because I really wanted you all to hear it hehe~~ 
> 
> I'll leave links here, and keep updating as I come up with more songs! Please ignore this username, I made my account all the way in middle school. Cringey times.
> 
> IR-11:11 (Indie Rock General Story Playlist)  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5K5TeC6RPP6k0LNnAtHQVK?si=IvCCuR8xTXu1Xb9BAjcxQA
> 
> KJ-11:11 (Korean and Japanese General Story Playlist)  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3PlhbiOadUuslu7EnWYAD3?si=XtFkkySMQWCovenGjup5kw
> 
> WR-11:11 (Wenrene)  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6oeAsAzKS2AXP3YlUox53B?si=se4E0UDJRheD_UPuQLtReA
> 
> JG-11:11 (Joygi)  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/429iIZB3BYAdWpcZi1QuPp?si=4QpDlslPTOmgAzbF5OjUxg
> 
> BJ-11:11 (Bae Joohyun)  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/613CQ25lJ7ND9RxC2h76LG?si=3Mc2Z1ZvSfaloZzCg6SanA
> 
> KS-11:11 (Kang Seulgi)  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3KKZbHwatbhygGjYUNeT1l?si=y27OzyZzQgifxqYIswWKOg
> 
> SS-11:11 (Son Seungwan)  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1I5HfIzqoSpfUPTtFwyWLb?si=LE_OpcOXQyqz4llly5svgA
> 
> PS-11:11 (Park Sooyoung)  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4sW4uaZnMGz62xRTxVgTKl?si=OjSVL1CCQ_i2aXujoT1omg
> 
> KY-11:11 (Kim Yerim)  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2hW7kwqYSpcHTMltrShDr7?si=o2P0S7qZTGeMVe3k9dHtWA
> 
> Thank you for getting through all of that, I know it was long. Now onto the story, I hope you enjoy it! As you read, I suggest listening to either WR-11:11 or IR-11:11.

The producers had finally updated Seungwan with their progress. According to Sungjin, the song was coming along well, and they just had to add a few more stylistic touches. They should be done by the end of the week. The managers had already contacted her with information about the release date, and upcoming promotion schedules after that. In a few days, she would need to start filming a music video for "Day 1" which was going to be released as a single. Until then, she had some time to relax. The calm before the storm.

Too bad she had no idea how to spend it. She was thinking about taking Joohyun out, she still owed her a date after all, but there was no fair in town, no traveling art exhibit. The day just seemed very mundane. Mundane was okay, though. Mundane with Joohyun was almost never just _mundane._ So there they were, sitting on the couch doing nothing. The most un-mundane mundane thing to do. Even Seungwan found herself running out of words to describe how much of a nothing they were doing.

Joohyun sighs, stretching like a cat across the cushions. "If this is what everyday existence in this era is like, maybe I don't want to exist."

"That's an awfully depressing thing to suddenly say. Are you really that bored?"

"Does a thief go for back pockets?"

Seungwan raises one eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Yes, they do," Joohyun says, letting out another disappointed sigh as she sinks deeper into the cushions.

Seungwan watches as Joohyun rolls over, twisting like a toddler throwing a silent tantrum. "You know, with all of your years of living, you act surprisingly childish sometimes."

Joohyun cranes her neck, the crown of her head pressed against one of the pillows, peering at Seungwan upside down. "You'll find that there's an inversely proportional relationship between magic and maturity sometimes." Her world flips right side up as she rolls around, now resting her chin on the pillow.

Seungwan is left slightly bewildered by the genie's statement. "I now realize that I should not have tried so hard in math class to never use it in my career and simply forget it all."

"Tell me about it. The only reason I remember is because one of my masters practically used me as an accountant to keep track of all of his wealth." Joohyun scoots closer to Seungwan, apparently not having stretched nearly far enough. Her next target of conquest on this couch crusade was Seungwan's lap, which she rested her head on as if it was one of the pillows that she had just thrown onto the adjacent chair. Seungwan wanted to point this out.

"I don't remember being a couch cushion."

"Oh really? I couldn't tell." Joohyun pinched Seungwan's thigh in demonstration of her following argument, "You're just as soft."

"You're missing an important distinction." Seungwan pinches Joohyun's cheek in retaliation. She receives a pained expression and slap on the offending hand, but continues, "Couch cushions don't usually fight back."

"Now that I think about it, it would be better if you were one. No talking, no pinching, just comfort."

Seungwan crosses her arms. "So I'm not comfortable then?"

"I didn't say that. Just that you should talk less."

Defiantly, the singer starts shifting her legs uncomfortably, provoking dissatisfied groans from the genie. "I was right. You would surely be better as a couch cushion."

It was this banter, this enthusiasm that made these simple moments so enjoyable. Even when the genie was dim, even without a magic lamp, she still managed to bring light into Seungwan's life. Of course, Seungwan's favorite part was the rebellion.

So with that statement, Seungwan gets up, receiving pouts from the foresaken genie. 

Starting towards the kitchen, Seungwan says, "Won't fighting with me get boring?"

Reluctantly, Joohyun stands, following as she replies, "That's the one thing I could never get tired of."

Their slippers soon find tiled floor, Joohyun taking her usual seat by the island as Seungwan walks to the other side. "Well, I feel like there are other things to do. I, for one, like to check the fridge when I have nothing to do."

"That doesn't sound very healthy."

As she pulls open the refrigerator door, Seungwan grins, "Never said it was." Her smile quickly disappears, replaced by a concerned frown and furrowed brow.

Joohyun watches her mood swing like an audience watching a botched magic trick. "Something the matter, Seungwan?"

The singer stares into the fridge, seeing a sad assortment of goods. They were at the end of the supply that Joohyun had went out to get the previous week. Even Seulgi's large stash of oranges had almost run dry, only three left. Her grumbling stomach granted her new motivation. This could be an opportunity. Seungwan turned to Joohyun. "Want to do some more boring things with me?"

* * *

The fluorescent lights of the local grocery store were blinding. A quiet bustle of people and the beeps of checkout scanners added strange ambience to the pop hits played over the speakers throughout the store. Seungwan and Joohyun were making their way through the aisles, on the hunt for one of the pasta types with the name that Seungwan couldn't pronounce. 

Joohyun eyed what they already had in their shopping cart, a new pan ("To replace the one that Seulgi broke literally the _day_ before she moved out!"), spinach ("To go with the pasta! I don't like it very much, but I think my mother would kill me if I didn't put some green thing on the plate."), and a carton of eggs ("For future breakfasts!"). There were quite a few miscellaneous items under the food, a couple bags of potato chips and an assortment of candy from peach rings to whoppers. Interesting selections, likely driven by Seungwan's empty stomach's cravings. Joohyun needs to remind her to never shop when hungry.

As Seungwan stooped down to check the boxes on the lower shelves, biting her lip in adorable, and arguably unnecessary concentration, Joohyun sparks a conversation. "So your idea of a fun thing to do was take me out to run errands?"

"I thought I introduced this whole trip with the word boring somewhere in there," Seungwan says pointedly, almost sarcastically. Spotting the proper pasta, Seungwan's smile widens, pulling it from the shelf with flourish. "May I present..." She does a weird flamboyant hand twirl. "Con..." Squinting, she brings the box closer to her face, trying to read the label, "Conchee glee?... Conchiglie pasta!" The singer grins with triumph. "I like this type because the sauce sticks to the pasta well." Her bravado makes her look like a toddler presenting at show and tell.

There were so many things to pick apart here, Joohyun just couldn't choose what to make fun of first. Her horrible pronunciation? Her weird display like a failed bird mating ritual? Her insistence on finding this very specific shell-shaped pasta for it's sauce-adherence properties? If Joohyun didn't find every aspect of this interaction too shockingly cute, she would've picked on them all. Instead, she wordlessly takes the box from Seungwan's hands and places it in the shopping cart as a stranger steps into the aisle. It was the genie's duty to protect her master from any more potential instances of embarrassment, after all (though there was definitely a side benefit in sparing herself from the perils of secondhand embarrassment). 

As they move on to the next aisle, Joohyun continues talking. "I didn't really pin you to be the cooking type, what with all of the takeout you've ordered for us these past few weeks." 

"I wouldn't say that I'm really big on cooking. It's kind of time intensive, especially if I'm really in the zone with songwriting," Seungwan answers honestly.

"So what I'm hearing is that you're a bad chef and going to poison me with your weird pasta shape."

The singer just chuckles. "Why don't we find out then? If you get poisoned, it was entirely unintentional."

Joohyun pulls a face, nose wrinkled in disgust at the idea of food poisoning. "Those don't sound like great odds. Why don't you just wish for a meal? That's been working out pretty well on the very rare days you're not ordering something."

"Felt like doing something special is all," She shrugs. "Nothing wrong with a little effort sometimes." They make their way to the produce aisle, freezers cooling the air at the edge of the supermarket. 

Joohyun feels her hands growing numb, tucking them into her sweater as Seungwan rifles around for parsley. "You're so weird. Magic at your fingertips and yet you don't use it that often. Why is that?"

"Strange change of topic for the grocery store, but I guess I'll indulge you. I don't really see the point in using magic for things that I can accomplish myself sometimes. It's like I'm not really living if everything is done for me." Seungwan breaks her focused searching, turning to Joohyun. "Is it weird to want to live authentically?"

Joohyun considers Seungwan's response, before slowly nodding. "I guess not. Do these little things give you joy?"

"They do, especially when I can do them with someone I enjoy being around." Seungwan doesn't look at Joohyun as she says that, simply sliding the herbs into the produce bag. She can't see how that threw Joohyun off guard. She can't see how Joohyun is blushing.

But the singer turns around quickly, sneakers squeaking across the linoleum. Joohyun averts her eyes, pretending to count the tiles underneath their feet. Seungwan edges closer to her, Joohyun watching her white sneakers firmly plant themselves within the borders of each white square, advancing like a knight across a chess board, intentions of taking the queen. The sneakers stop in the tile directly in front of her. Checkmate. 

Seungwan pitches up her voice, drawling out, "Joohyun~"

She whips around, scrambling for a reason to avoid looking into Seungwan's eyes. "What's next on the list? Did we need milk? We should probably head on over to the dairy —" The genie feels a hand wrap around her wrist, fingers slowly curling around the space right above the silver bracelet. The heat from her cheeks seems to spread to the rest of her body. She definitely can't turn around now, thoughts running every direction. They still at the feeling of Seungwan gently placing her chin on the genie's left shoulder.

She can almost see Seungwan's pout from the way she's speaking, imagining the jut of her bottom lip and puffed out cheeks. The singer always remarked how she was the least cute person that you could ever meet, but Joohyun thought that she was wrong. Seungwan gives out a low mumble, chin bobbing on Joohyun's shoulder with every syllable, "You aren't going to tell me that you enjoy being with me too?"

Joohyun nervously laughs, "And why would I say that?"

The weight of Seungwan's head disappears. Her hand doesn't. "So you don't then?" The fingers tighten, as if in an attempt to convey more sincerity, more insecurity.

"No, I..." Joohyun looks down at the hand around her wrist. She considers a joke to break the tension, before rejecting the idea. It would be okay to tell her the truth. "I do. I enjoy being with you."

She feels a tug on her arm. "How do I know you mean it if you don't turn and tell me?"

Joohyun rolls her eyes. "And you call _me_ childish."

"Humor me?"

Slowly, the genie pivots on her heels, feeling the friction of her flats across the floor. She still can't manage to look Seungwan directly in the eyes, eyes focusing on her gold necklace as she says, "I enjoy being with you."

"Hmm..." Seungwan brings her hand to her chin in mock contemplation. "Not convinced."

"Oh come on, Seungwan, let's just go get that stupid milk." Joohyun utters as she turns back around, now frustrated and still very embarrassed. She takes the first step in the direction of the freezers across the large room, but is stopped by a weak pull on her arm.

"I wish for you to tell me the truth."

"Okay, fine. The truth is you're being kind of annoying right now, Seungwan," Joohyun prods. 

Seungwan smirks, "Tell me something I don't know. But that's not really what I was hoping for." She takes an infinitesimally small step forward, closing the gap between them by a centimeter, a millimeter even. Though Joohyun couldn't approximate with that much accuracy, what she did know was that her heart was beating that much faster. Seungwan's eyes flash with amusement, knowingly. "Could you use magic, Joohyun? A sort of truth potion wish?"

The genie raises her eyebrow, the suddenness and oddity of the request shaking her from her stupor. "You're really going to waste a wish like that?"

"That's only if you see it as a waste. I don't. I wish for you to tell me the truth about how you feel about me." Seungwan thinks for a second, before tacking on, "How you feel about me in general, not only right now. I already got the answer to that one." She looks smug, like she just evaded some sort of magical loophole. She probably did, actually.

Joohyun doesn't see a way out of this. "Whatever suits you, master. Your wish is my command." She snaps, the engravings on her bracelet turning a dim blue. Seungwan waits patiently, bracing herself for some more pointed statements and snark.

Magic courses through Joohyun, heart calming, nerves steadying. She feels artificial confidence, driving the truth off her tongue, forgetting the sensation of Seungwan's hand around her wrist that is shooting flames up her arm. "I do enjoy being with you. I like you far more than you think. I really do..." Joohyun pauses, "...like you, that is." She soon turns indignant, pressing a finger to Seungwan's chest. "So stop asking me about it and _know_ it!"

"Wow, Joohyun." Seungwan now dons a megawatt grin, giving Joohyun's arm a playful squeeze before she lets go. "Almost sounds like a confession."

The magic fades, blue light dissipating until the bracelet returns to its original cool silver. Joohyun crosses her arms. "Are you happy now? You just wasted a wish on four sentences."

"Correction: four very good, very worthwhile sentences, Joohyun. And yes, if you're still wondering," Seungwan slides her hand into Joohyun's as her other clasps the edge of the cart, finally dragging the pair toward the dairy section, "I'm very happy."

* * *

After grabbing everything they need, and a few extra items of junk food, they head toward the checkout line. Passing by the display of flowers near the entrance of the store. Joohyun lingers by the stand for a minute, admiring the assortment of roses, chrysanthemums, and daisies. Her eyes were caught on a particular set of flowers, striped carnations. The tinges of pink along the edges were captivating, like an ideal example of beautiful imperfection. So it was spring after all.

Seungwan takes notice of the soft smile gracing the genie's face, lips instinctively curling upward. She doesn't acknowledge it verbally, but not without remarking internally how good Joohyun would look with a flower in her hand. 

With the beeps of the scanner and a polite interaction with the cashier, Seungwan swipes a card to end their grocery escapade. Joohyun waits at the other end of the conveyor belt, collecting the bags and neatly placing them in the shopping cart. She notices rice cakes come down the belt, fish cakes, and green onions following. Ingredients for tteokbokki. Joohyun doesn't remember placing them in the cart. Throwing a questioning look at Seungwan, she gets a response. "Thought you said you liked it. Maybe I can show you my mom's recipe one of these days." The genie can only nod, silently much more appreciative of this seemingly small act than she lets on.

They roll the cart past the automatic doors, Seungwan happily humming a song that Joohyun doesn't recognize. The air is slightly cool, day just past the peak of noon. The parking lot of the plaza was nearly empty, most people having already returned to work following their lunch breaks. 

Abruptly, Seungwan brings the cart to a halt. "Hey, Joohyun, do you mind waiting a second? I think I forgot to get something. I'll run in real quick." Seungwan gestures at the store as she begins to backpedal toward the automatic doors.

"Wait, I thought we checked off everything on the list. I mean," She starts shuffling through her pocket for the note she wrote down. "I can check, I have it right here!"

But Seungwan isn't listening, simply waving off her comments dismissively. "Oh, don't worry about it. I swear I'll only be a second."

And with that, she disappears behind the entrance's tinted glass, leaving Joohyun in front of this near empty parking lot. She watches a mother buckle her child into the car seat, leaning down to kiss their forehead. She watches a person struggle to stack all of their groceries in their trunk, frustratedly clicking the door before they hear the rustle of falling bags, leaning against the back of the car and slumping as they sigh. Then she hears footsteps behind her, the perfect cadence of a 4/4 time signature. She knew it was Seungwan. As the genie readied herself to turn around, Seungwan stopped her.

"Wait! Before you turn around, I just want to keep it a surprise, just for a little bit."

"If you surprise me with some cabbage you forgot to buy, I think I'll kill you."

Seungwan laughs airily, and Joohyun imagines the smile on her face. "Then I guess my life is spared." Joohyun hears a few more footsteps, accompanied by a hand on her shoulder. "Seungwan?"

She almost thinks the singer's hand is shaking. Unconsciously, she brings up her own to place on top of Seungwan's. Her hands were cold from the refrigerated grocery store environment. Were they trembling from the cold, or was it nerves?

"I just wanted to say that I know we haven't been together for very long, but I'm glad you're with me. And I'm sorry that I can't be better, more interesting, more organized. I'm sorry that I'm annoying and that I'm weird and scattered, that I'm not some cool pirate or crime lord or art curator like your past masters. I'm sorry that I don't even know how to make proper wishes, sorry that I waste your time." Joohyun imagines Seungwan's habit, knows from the faint scent of vanilla that she's ruffling her hair, scratching the back of her neck nervously.

Joohyun wants to stop her, wants to turn around and wrap her in her arms and tell her to shut up. Be quiet, Seungwan. You're wrong. Wrong about everything. 

She shifts to turn around, to do just that, but is interrupted yet again.

"Wait, wait." Seungwan's voice comes out shakier than she intended. "This is so weird to be doing in front of the grocery store. I'm sorry for that too. I didn't mean for this to turn into such a mess. I'm sorry." Joohyun wants to tell her to stop saying that. There's nothing to apologize for. She can only manage a light caress of Seungwan's hand, thumb tracing circles. Seungwan takes that as a cue to continue. "I wanted to say thank you. For everything. I know that being a genie is like, your whole job, but it still means so much to me. You should know that I think of you as more than that. You mean so much to —" Seungwan removes her hand without finishing that statement. "I should probably just stop talking. You can turn around now."

So Joohyun does, confronted with the view of Seungwan holding a bouquet of flowers, striped carnations, the pink dancing around the rim of each white petal. The sunlight was filtering through the slats of the supermarket awning, leaving Seungwan striped with sunlight, like the flowers she was holding. She looked so soft, nervous, her feet shuffling ever so slightly, one hand fiddling with the seam of her coat pocket as the other hand clutched the stems of the flowers, knuckles white. "I saw you looking at the flowers earlier, so... so here it is. I- I didn't quite know which to get but I saw you looking at these ones in particular. I thought they were pretty," Seungwan stammers. 

Even with an awareness of all that magic could do, Joohyun finds this is more than she could wish for. She realizes for the first time why Seungwan was so special. She made her forget she was a genie. And so for the first time, Joohyun gave in to her desires.

Nigh leaping forward, she embraced Seungwan, enveloping herself in the scent of fresh laundry and vanilla that she had been craving. 

"Hey, watch out for the flow—" Seungwan moves the bouquet out of the way as Joohyun wraps her arms around the shorter's torso, hugging her tightly. Her arms are still awkwardly thrown to her sides, clearly caught by surprise from Joohyun's sudden affection. "And I always thought that Seulgi was the only one to give bear hugs," She laughs.

"Won't you shut up, Seungwan?" Joohyun buries her head in the crook of Seungwan's neck. 

"I must talk too much, huh?"

Joohyun can't help but give a sardonic retort. "Yeah, you really know how to run your mouth."

"Sorr—"

Joohyun backs away for a second, loosening her hold on Seungwan as she presses a finger to her lips. "Don't you dare apologize again." Seungwan looks on the verge of instinctively responding with another apology, but Joohyun's glare shoots her down. "Now listen to me. I don't care about you being like my other masters. It's impossible to compare you." Seungwan looks slightly dismal, as if her fears of being uninteresting had been fulfilled with the single statement. Joohyun catches her face fall, quick to correct her assumption. "You're better." The light returns to the singer's eyes, and Joohyun's snark returns. "You'd think that making me tell the truth via magic would've been enough to assuage your concerns." Seungwan lips purse. "But I can see that's not the case, so..." Joohyun leans in, voice growing quieter, words fragile enough to break. "I really meant it when I said that I enjoy being around you. You might not think that this is most exciting life, but I don't think I've ever needed one. I've had more than enough." She takes Seungwan's free hand, pressing it to her chest, heart thrumming through her sternum. "I find that every moment with you is an adventure. My heart beats twice as fast as it ever did on the high seas. I _exist_ with you."

"How did you know to grant _that_ wish of mine?" Seungwan's eyes risk a glance at Joohyun's lips, feels pulled closer to them in the gravitational field labeled Joohyun, an astronomical phenomenon. But like a stray asteroid with too much velocity, she flings out of orbit. Seungwan pulls back and out of Joohyun's grasp, using awkward laughs to fill the void that her anxiety created. "Maybe you should get that checked out then. I could take you to a doctor, or something." 

Joohyun just lets a low chuckle escape, still a little flustered herself, and honestly slightly impressed with her courage. She takes the bouquet from Seungwan's hands, being careful not to crush the flowers as she holds the bundle close to her chest. "If I had a real heart problem, I think I would've died a long time ago." 

Seungwan smiles. "I'm glad you didn't, then." Her face lights up as inspiration strikes. "If you did, you wouldn't be able to learn the reason why _I_ exist."

"Oh really, what's that?" Joohyun asks, partly curious, partly unbelieving.

Eyes with a playful glint, Seungwan places one foot at the base of their momentarily forgotten shopping cart, arms poised on the handle. She then brings one arm down, using it to gesture toward Joohyun. "Step onto the ledge in front of me and hold onto the handle."

Joohyun shoots an incredulous look. "Let me get this straight. You want me to ride this shopping cart?"

"In short, yes." Seungwan receives more confused, doubtful expressions from the genie. Exasperated, she exclaims, "Just trust me!" 

Before Seungwan starts making puppy dog eyes, Joohyun cautiously steps onto the cart, wrapping her small hands around the red bar. Suddenly, she feels Seungwan's hands attach themselves to the handle, one on either side of her own, enclosing her.

"Hold on tight!"

Seungwan starts running, before pushing off with just a single foot. They're headed straight for the yellow bumps that line the edge of the sidewalk, Joohyun tightening her grip in anticipation for what's sure to be a rocky trip.

"This is my favorite part!"

The ground underneath them transitions from gray stone to yellow plastic, the wheels of the shopping cart bouncing with every blister. The sensation radiates upward, as if Joohyun had put her feet on the electronic foot massagers they put at rest stops in theme parks. She feels grounded, flighty, all at once. The ride doesn't stop there however, Seungwan continuing to push them down through the parking lot in the direction of her car. Joohyun closes her eyes. She doesn't think about how childish this is, doesn't think about the onlookers who probably thought that they were crazy. She forgets her fear of speed, forgets her inhibitions. All she can manage to do is let herself get lost in the breeze that the singer was generating, lost in the warmth of Seungwan's arms surrounding her. Together, they soar across the asphalt, and Joohyun almost gives into the urge of letting go, spreading her arms out like the wings of a falcon in a jet stream. She doesn't, though. This was already enough thrill seeking for her. Instead, one hand is clutching the bouquet and handle simultaneously, careful to not let go. One petal. Two petals. Three. Wisps of the pastel colors flit around, suspended in air behind them, a puppeteer's work dangling on strings. She doesn't let the disappearance of stray petals faze her, almost like leaving behind a blazing trail of the season, petals caught aflame. Too soon, she feels Seungwan drag her feet along the ground, slowing them down as easily as applying brakes to a car. The hands of the grand designer let go. The petals, once suspended, drift to the asphalt, staining the black mix of minerals and petroleum white and pink. Though it ends, Joohyun feels like this is a new beginning.

As they stopped, they were breathless, chests heaving up and down in pace.

"Was it fun? Isn't it a great reason to exist?"

Joohyun doesn't have the words to reply. If she did, she would probably say that if she had any wish at all, she would wish for a lifetime to exist with Seungwan. Instead, all she can say is:

"Yes. It is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took a little longer. I was bouncing around so many different ideas, and ended up having way too much homework to get through this week. I guess this is payback for spending so much time writing last week! 
> 
> Hopefully the little scenes of domesticity gave you joy! I really enjoyed writing them. I feel like that's more reflective of how a real relationship would develop. It's not always super fun exciting dates, just little things are good enough sometimes. Part of me thinks that a love that develops gradually through all of the little moments is one that is more durable in the end. I like love that's a drizzle more than I do a flood. It's still amazing how wonderfully beautiful the small moments are, though.
> 
> Anyway, I hope this brings a little happiness during this kind of sad holiday season. It's a source of comfort for me these days. If any of you are seniors getting ready to see early decisions, good luck! I believe in you : )) Don't know if this is weird to tell you all, but I feel like it's ok. We've gotten closer over the course of this story, right? Got rejected from my dream school! It stings a little, and in my sadness I kind of speed-wrote the rest of this chapter that I've had in the works for the past week. At least a good thing came out of it, I suppose. It gave me a lot of motivation for this, haha! I hereby transfer all of my luck to you all, if you need it. I'll see you next time <3


	12. ...And Though It's Transitory...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungwan and Joohyun end their day together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to recommend one of my playlists for this chapter, before realizing that the tone differs too much from scene to scene to be consistent. So it's your lucky day! I made a very specific playlist of songs for this chapter, going in order.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6xyCUEQ73U1IgOGgPgzfKq?si=Izn8G_X4QcaD5rlXliok2Q
> 
> For those of you who don't use Spotify, or just prefer to look up the songs, I'll list them here:
> 
> "I Need You" by The Pesky Snakes  
> "Spring Day" by BTS  
> "Swimming" by Lunar Vacation  
> "Day 1" by Red Velvet  
> "Witch Love" by Nico Yaryan  
> "Honeymoon (Forever)" by Hellogoodbye  
> "Rose Scent Breeze" by Red Velvet
> 
> Since I can't pinpoint the exact timing of a lot of these, I'll just cross my fingers and hope they correspond to the right sections! Hopefully you can just kind of guess the vibe. I hope you enjoy!!

After returning to the apartment and putting away all of the groceries, Seungwan immediately flopped onto the couch, exhausted from the exuberance of their outing, like crashing from a sugar high where the only monosaccharides she had consumed were that of each Joohyun's company.

Joohyun on the other hand, was searching for a suitable vase to put the bouquet that Seungwan had bought. She was rummaging through various kitchen cabinets, hoping to find where Seungwan might've stashed a stray container. Her search turned up empty.

"Seungwan? Do you have anywhere to put these flowers?"

The woman draped over the arm of the couch, one leg hung over its back, sat up, scanning the room. Her eyes landed on the only vase in the whole apartment, standing in its usual place on top of the cabinet by the entrance. Joohyun followed the singer's gaze, whipping her head back towards her direction, locking eyes. Appalled, she shakes her head. "You've got to be kidding me. There's no way that's the only vase you own."

Seungwan just shrugs, standing up and making her way to the kitchen. "I've never really had a need for one before. Don't get flowers often."

"So you're just going to be completely unprepared in the case you _do_ get flowers?"

Laughing, the singer replies, "I wouldn't count on it anytime soon. That is, unless you get me some." She finishes her statement with a wink, turning around too quickly to see Joohyun avert her eyes. It appears Seungwan has the same idea as Joohyun did earlier, going to the closest cabinet and making her way across the kitchen, opening every door and peering inside for any sign of a vase. Unlike Joohyun, though, she's relatively sure that she won't be able to find anything. 

Thinking to save her the trouble, Joohyun chimes in, "I've already checked all of the cupboards. I'm confident that there aren't any vases in there."

Spotting something, Seungwan's eyes light up. The singer smirks. Reaching her arm into the cabinet, she launches into an unnecessary introduction to a dramatic reveal, "You just haven't overcome functional fixedness, Joohyun. Open your eyes to a world of wonder! The Amazing Seungwan presents..." With a grand sweep of her arm, she uses the other to presumably pull out a suitable vase, exclaiming, "Behold, the finest piece of glassware in this hemisphere!"

If only it truly was. Instead, the singer brandished a glass pitcher, holding it up on display like she was a model on the shopping channel. Seungwan seemed very smug, but Joohyun was not having it. Forget the Amazing Seungwan. This was the Amazing Dork.

"You're telling me you have a pitcher, but not a vase?" Joohyun rolls her eyes. "What's next? Are you going to tell me that you have little lemonade parties more often than you receive flowers?"

Seungwan lowered the pitcher, giving Joohyun a look that tells the genie she hit the nail right on the head. Joohyun just stared back in disbelief. Absentmindedly scratching the back of her head, Seungwan explains, "Seulgi and I like to spend nice summer days drinking lemonade on the balcony. Can you blame us?" 

It would've sounded refreshing if Joohyun wasn't disturbed at the thought of displaying such beautiful flowers in a pitcher meant to hold refreshments, not preserve plants. 

"Anyway," the singer continued, "this is perfect! It holds an adequate amount of water for all of the flowers..." As if to demonstrate, she brings it to the sink, filling the vessel with tap. "It is also _so_ convenient to change the water! Simply pour!" She tilts the pitcher, letting the water flow back down the drain from the lip. "As you can see, it's not as finicky as other vases where water falls more unpredictably." She uses exaggerated movements to punctuate her claim. "It's almost as if this container was made for pouring liquid." Seungwan gives the world's dopiest grin, feeling as though her unique demonstration sealed the deal. Well, Joohyun couldn't argue with any of that, and she didn't see very many alternatives. If she rejected this proposal, who knows what Seungwan might suggest next. Her decision very well put her on the brink of displaying flowers in a pasta pot.

The genie sighed, bringing the bouquet toward the half-full pitcher. If Seungwan were an animal right now, she would be a squirrel chittering in excitement. As Joohyun places the flowers in the water, Seungwan makes a final comment.

"Welcome to the land of opportunity, Joohyun." She claps Joohyun on the back, who defeatedly pushes the pitcher to the center of the island. It doesn't make for a half bad display, actually. Wait, she can't be thinking like that. Seungwan's flawed logic must be getting to her.

"Do you need to stamp my passport officer? I'd rather there be no record of my presence here."

"Oh, it's far too late, passenger. You've come through customs and there's no way of leaving."

* * *

With it just past three when they returned home, the pair had seemingly run out of things to do, and had returned to the state of bored nothingness. Such was the case until Seungwan suggested they watch a movie. Lacking better ideas, Joohyun agreed. 

So here they were, Seungwan crouched next to the TV cabinet, shuffling through the DVDs of Seulgi's film collection. She pulls out one with a UFO on the cover. "How are you feeling about Sci-Fi right now?"

"Mm... Alien abductions are probably going to give me nightmares."

"I swear this isn't that scary."

"You'd think that with all of the things I've seen, I'd be less scared in general. That's not the case. Try again."

Seungwan sees her point, sliding the DVD to the bottom of the stack. "Okay, how about this one? I don't think we've watched a fantasy together yet." The castles and knights on the cover tell Joohyun all she needs to know about that movie. She does not want to fact check the existence of fairies and dragons and all of their technicalities right now. Joohyun's frown is enough to make Seungwan put the case back into the cabinet. 

Seungwan puts the CDs down on the coffee table, slouching in resignation. "Joohyun..." The singer whines, "I've presented like ten of these now and you rejected all of them! Seulgi would be so offended if she was here."

Joohyun looks back sympathetically. "I have very specific taste, I suppose."

"Well if your taste is so specific, why don't you just tell me what you feel like watching?"

The genie doesn't quite know herself, but answers with the first thing that comes to mind. "Do you have any romances?"

"Wow, unexpected, but we'll roll with it. I could've put money on you choosing another historical piece with how often you seem to be watching these days."

"Maybe I wanted something different this time," Joohyun answers.

"Sure, sure." Seungwan slides her selections back into the cabinet, fingers then brushing across the various titles, pausing on one. "Here," She says, pulling out the movie, "I think I have one you might like. It's one of Seulgi's favorites." She pops the movie into the DVD player. As the machine whirs to life and Seungwan swipes the remote off the table, turning the monitor on with a click, she relays a brief description. "So this film centers on a small town boy and girl, childhood friends. We watch as their love develops, but they have different ambitions that inevitably drive them apart. It's a little bittersweet, but you seem like the type of person who would like that sort of thing."

Joohyun gives a questioning look. "Really? How does one seem like to like bittersweetness?"

"Oh, I don't know," Seungwan looks Joohyun up and down, "Like you have a tragic genie backstory or something."

She can't hold in her laughter, chuckling incessantly, but receiving only silence from Seungwan. Oh, she was serious. After a minute, she is able to stifle her laughter, turning to the singer who gazes at her expectantly.

"I just assumed that, with all of those years of living, you might've been through a thing or two."

Joohyun had no argument against that, but still found it funny to imagine herself as some sort of grizzled veteran, scarred by a past she couldn't shirk. Then again, maybe she was in some way or another.

The opening music brings Joohyun back to the present. Beginning with a shot of spring flowers, the camera descends, following the path of a train meandering along tracks running from a city, the urban landscape sprawling out before it transitions to the grass and blossoming trees of a small town. A petal defies the law of physics, bobbing on the wind forever just inches ahead of the camera, an almost never-ending game of cat and mouse. As the train stops at the station, the petal falls, diverting its path off of the tracks and onto side streets, twirling past small store fronts, managers sweeping the sidewalk free of the petal's loose predecessors blown by the same winds that carry it now.

Eventually, it meets its forebearers' fate, laying to rest in front of of a playground, nearly void of children save for two. A boy and girl were squatted together, tiny feet with tiny sandals planted firmly in the confines of their new world, sandbox turned into a vast desert, they, the sole engineers to bend it to their will. 

Hooked by the intro alone, Joohyun hadn't even noticed Seungwan get up to turn off the lights. With the flick of the switch, the living room darkened. With Seungwan sliding into the seat beside her, the story began.

They were childhood friends, even better, neighbors. The pair grew up together, constantly bickering but with an undeniable loyalty to one another. Joohyun thought it was the cutest premise, having a bond that couldn't be broken. Every scene of a walk back home after school, every late night convenience store run, every chase by the side of the river, none were experiences she could personally relate to, yet she found simultaneous comfort and longing in them nonetheless. When the leads first clasped hands together, running down the streets to get home before the streetlights turned on, Joohyun felt a tug on her own heartstrings.

Lights flashed across the television, flickering pixels, moving pictures — technological magic — conveying a story through the screen. It was like peering into a mirror, instead, a different world reflecting back at her. Joohyun was utterly encapsulated. 

On the other hand, Seungwan didn't find herself as invested in the story that laid itself out before them. Having watched it countless times with Seulgi, she knew the plot like that back of her hand. From the climactic confession scene to how the pair drifts apart due to different ideals and motivations only to reunite in their future, Seungwan could play it all in her head like churning the handle on a personal film reel, speeding up, slowing down, or rewinding at her leisure.

What was so new to her, however, and what captured her attention most, was not the intricacy of the interactions in the movie, but Joohyun's reactions. Whereas Seulgi would've been talking nonstop, narrating what scene would come next, marveling over the different camera techniques and angles, Joohyun was silent. She gave no verbal indication of this, but it was plain to Seungwan how fascinated she was. The woman was already a genie, but while watching this film, Seungwan truly felt as though Joohyun was in a different world. She gazed at the characters as if she knew them, looked despondent when there was conflict, joyous when there was development. It was almost as if she was watching scenes of her own romance, taking center stage amidst the drama and twists. Seungwan wondered who Joohyun imagined her love interest to be. 

Occasionally, Joohyun would break out of her daze and turn to Seungwan, try to gauge if their hearts raced in tandem at the pair's first kiss. Seungwan was never watching the screen, but always watching her. Imperceptible to her, Joohyun's chest beat harder. In the dim light, she was relieved that Seungwan couldn't notice the growing red at the tips of her ears.

Turning back to the screen, she felt the indent in the couch next to her move. The cushions contracted, and Seungwan had scooted closer to her. With more shifting, Seungwan's head was now firmly planted on her shoulder. As if knowing that Joohyun would be distracted, she pointed at the screen. "Look, the climax is here."

Whether she was too interested in the following scene to notice Seungwan slide her hand into hers or too distracted to even comment, Joohyun would never tell.

Looking back to the screen, they returned to the story, both now paying adequate attention to the crucial scene unfolding. 

The boy was now on the brink of the cliff of adulthood. The girl, a year older, was free falling off the edge. Wanting to leave her life in this small town behind, she was on her way to board the next train out, pursue an education, a life even, in the big city miles down the tracks.

And so he ran. He followed the road down, the streets they had chased each other in as kids. He weaved through side streets, ducked into alleyway shortcuts, and wound up on the main road leading toward the station. Lining the path were cherry blossom trees in full bloom, none catching his attention as he barreled toward his love. Petals drifted past him as he ran, nearing the figure of the girl ascending the steps toward the terminal. 

Chest heaving, he placed his hands on his knees. Using the last of his breath, he called out to the girl. With the turn of her body, he begun his plea for her to stay. 

Seungwan buried her head further into Joohyun's shoulder, turning her head away from the screen. She held Joohyun's hand tighter.

The genie didn't think to ask why, using her thumb to trace shapes onto the back of Seungwan's hand as she tuned back into his confession.

"You're more beautiful than these blossoms. But you've always been more fleeting too. Our time together is so transitory." His voice was wistful as it always was during the slower scenes, during conversations at the riverside, during nighttime walks. If it even could, his voice grew lower, "So don't leave me. I love you."

The girl takes only seconds to respond. Looking out across the line of trees, she says, "These blossoms will be gone soon, and so will I. I can't stay for you. If you really loved me, cherish our time together."

Joohyun's eyes glisten, and not just from the glow of the television. A tear rolls down her cheek. Is this the end for them?

The sensation is replaced by a new one, Seungwan's warm hand wiping away her tears. "I've never seen you cry before."

"I'm not, I'm not." The genie blinks the tears away as best she can, crossing her arms and looking away from both the singer and the screen. "I think we need to clean the living room again, because I think some dust just went in my eye."

Seungwan giggles, and Joohyun almost forgets that the movie is even still playing. Time seems to still as Seungwan wraps an arm around her waist, giving a slight squeeze to comfort her. "Ah, cheer up, Joohyun. There's going to be a happy ending." The singer's smile illuminates the dark room. For her following statement, her tone dims, "And besides, this kind of thing wouldn't happen in real life anyway."

Joohyun shakes her head. "I think it could've happened before. Even if it didn't, I still like it — still want to believe in romance. Though I wonder if romantics even exist anymore."

"Aren't I one?"

Seungwan's playful smirk makes Joohyun's tear ducts stall and lips pull into a smile. She forgets their current intimacy, only thinking to banter back. "Are you? I don't know if you would run so much to stop the love of your life from leaving. You can hardly run three blocks."

The arm around Joohyun's waist shakes as Seungwan laughs, too amused to come up with a response. It was true, even so. 

Joohyun thinks to continue the joke. "Let's say I'm the love interest here, and we're in our own story. I'm just about to leave and you want to beg me to stay. Would you run that far, like he did? Implore me to stay with you? Change my mind before I even step foot on the train?"

Seungwan returns her head to its place on Joohyun's shoulder, hand clutched into a fist above Joohyun's hip. 

Her voice is quiet. "I don't like this scene that much, actually. Wouldn't it have been more romantic to have waited longingly for your return?"

"What if I wanted you to chase me?" Joohyun poses, curious.

"Then I might. I think it's so much easier to chase than to be chased."

The genie laughs to break the tension. "As if _I_ would have it any easier. My protagonist doesn't even want to try and come get me."

Seungwan doesn't look back at her, eyes fixated on the screen. "I guess I'm just a bad protagonist then, aren't I?"

Joohyun leans into Seungwan. "Your unconventional nature makes you more interesting. I wouldn't want this cookie cutter man to be my lead," She scoffs, before returning to her previous, more soothing demeanor, giving a compliment so nonchalant that if Seungwan wasn't already fully captured by Joohyun's presence, she could've missed it.

But she didn't.

Joohyun's eyes flicker, reflecting the colors gleaming across the monitor. One second, as blue as the sky, another second, as pink as the blossoms.

"You're more than perfect for me."

* * *

The final scene was a winter's kiss. It had left an impression on Joohyun. Perhaps it was something about the season, how it felt so warm despite the cold, how people would huddle walking down streets in the evening. She imagined blowing breaths in the frigid air, watching as water vapor condensed and floated away. 

In fact, she was watching a similar process now, but with steam instead of breath. She stood over the boiling pot of pasta, watching Seungwan stir. The singer was taking her through the steps of cooking, in the case that she wanted to make something for herself on the days that Seungwan was gone. It had been a while since she or a master had actually cooked, most becoming wealthy enough to afford personal chefs within just a few weeks of meeting Joohyun. It was nostalgic nonetheless. She looked over the rising steam and was reminded of slow days in a restaurant, taking a break after a lunch rush, apron about the waist neatly tied at the back. It feels like home.

Seungwan interrupts her thoughts. "I know this isn't from scratch, so it's not going to be as good as the time you were in Italy, but it's a lot faster. It'll only be about a half hour more." Having stirred enough, she let the pot sit on the stove as she started preparing ingredients for a sauce. "There's not much left for me to show you, I just have to throw all of these together and we're as good as done here! You can just sit tight, or do whatever you want really, and I'll let you know when this is all ready."

Joohyun pulled out the stool from the island. "I'll just sit here, if you don't mind. I like watching."

"Sure," Seungwan replied over her shoulder, "I can't say there's very much to see, but maybe I need to start getting used to an audience again."

She wiped the sweat from her brow, appearing taller than she normally was, imbued by a calm confidence that must have come with past experience in the kitchen. Her short brown hair was pulled into a low ponytail, bobbing as she chopped the onions. Internally, Joohyun thought that Seungwan was enough of a show on her own. 

"Are you getting back to preparational activities soon?"

Seungwan nods. "Apparently, in a few days I'll start shooting for a music video."

"Oh really, did the full song come back yet?"

Seungwan feels her pocket buzz, pulling out her phone with one hand and mixing with the other, she checked the incoming message. "Uh, yeah, it just did actually. Lim just sent me the mp3." She brings her phone over to the speakers lined up against the wall on the counter situated in the corner of the kitchen. "I told you I'd let you hear it first so..." She plugs in her phone, connecting to the speakers with a click. "Want to hear it now?"

With Joohyun's enthusiastic nod, Seungwan pressed play and raised the volume, letting the opening notes overtake the sounds of the boiling water on the stove. The teasing melody of the horns was balanced against the slow piano chords. The introduction was like the beginning of a rollercoaster ride, inching upward to the peak, chains chugging along the tracks.

Returning to her task of throwing herbs into the mixture of sauce, Seungwan looked across the island at Joohyun. She sees the genie with eyes closed, completely absorbed in the music. When the drums kick in, she watches her smile, shinier than the brass off the trumpets that sounded throughout their kitchen. In free fall, she catapulted down the first drop.

Though Joohyun didn't have much of a taste for modern pop, she found herself falling in love with this song. Maybe it was the way every beat was perfectly placed, every syllable, every note adding to an atmosphere that recalled endless spring days, heart-racing bike rides, conspicuous glances and conspicuous crushes. Maybe it was the way Seungwan sang, like every word was addressed to her and her alone. Every swell in her voice left a swell in Joohyun's heart. In her mind, she was doing loops, flipped upside down, a swivel right, a swing left. Was she on the ride alone, or did she have a partner and a hand to hold?

She shifted in her seat, anticipation and restlessness coursing through her, a quickening heartbeat and sweat-slicked palms. That's just how the song made her feel, in love. 

When the song faded out, she could hardly believe it was over. The ride came to a stop. It was like everything changed, but stayed the same, like the world had tilted on its axis by the slightest degree, placing every object, every person in a new location. She didn't yet know whether this degree had resulted in a displacement of a centimeter or a mile.

The same cupboard to the far left of the kitchen, just above the fridge, still, perpetually, hung somewhat ajar from a hinge rusted over. The same faucet, always running the water a little more cold than Joohyun would like, even when twisting the handle for hot water. The same Seungwan, shoes still tapping lightly to an imaginary continuation of the beat, the same humming she could hear echoing across the bathroom tile on Sunday mornings, echoing across the hardwood in the living room, echoing now across the granite counters.

Yet it was all different. The cupboard door hung lower than usual. The faucet was warm today. Seungwan tapped harder, hummed louder, hummed lighter.

Change. Change isn't bad.

Straining the pasta into plates, steam rose, a cold winter's warm breath. Joohyun watches as Seungwan moves across the tile, feet light and hands in constant motion. Sauce. Plating. Garnish. The lovely humming stops.

Joohyun doesn't miss it, grins as it's replaced by an even lovelier voice. 

"It's ready, Joohyun."

* * *

After a dinner filled with probing questions: "How'd you like the song? Did you like how they mixed the guitars? Was I a little pitchy during the climax?", to which the answers were: "I didn't like it, I loved it, Absolutely, and Not at all," they stood shoulder-to-shoulder at the sink, washing their dishes. There was no sound except for the clatter of dishes and running water, each content in the quiet atmosphere.

At first, they had bickered over who should take the responsibility ("Let me do it, this is my apartment!" "No, it's ours now, and I should do it because you cooked the meal!"), but eventually compromised on completing the task jointly. They agreed that they could finish faster together anyway.

Seungwan is the first to break the silence. "Isn't this so domestic? It's almost as if we're a married couple," She suggests, chuckling.

Joohyun scrubs harder. "Didn't you do chores with Seulgi? You must've been a horrible roommate."

"Well, it wasn't like this for sure. We'd joke and mess around so much that the chores would never actually get done, so we decided to assign individual tasks for us to do." Seungwan places a dish in the drying rack, then gesturing toward the kitchen floor. "The number of times that we got soap and water all over the tile is far too many to count! I remember that we both tried walking out and slipped, one after the other. We were laughing so hard we couldn't get up!" The singer smiles so brightly thinking back on these memories. "I feel like this apartment was always loud with us together. With you, it's more quiet."

The genie looks down into the bottom of the sink, watching the bubbles sink down the drain. "I'm sorry I'm not as entertaining," She says solemnly.

Seungwan waves away her statement, the free hand flailing as she tries not to let the wet glass slip from her fingers. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that at all!" She takes the towel, wiping the rim. "Our silence is comfortable. I don't feel pressured to speak at all, as if our silence could communicate volumes on its own." She reaches for the plate that Joohyun hands to her. "Every time I take a dish from you to dry off, it's like our own little conversation, these interactions. Do you get what I mean?"

"You're being weird today, Seungwan."

The singer shrugs. "Maybe I'm just being me. Wouldn't it be boring if I were more normal?"

"I think I could find you interesting any which way you were."

It grows quiet again, the faucet filling up the gaps in their conversation. Joohyun thinks she knows what Seungwan is talking about. Every time she finishes lathering a fork with the sponge, rinsing it off with water before handing it to Seungwan, they speak to each other. Passing a spoon, fingers brushing each others', it's as if they say, "I'm paying attention." Drying off a bowl: "I'll work with you." Turning the handle of the faucet so the water runs the slightest bit warmer: "I'm here."

Joohyun thinks that this silence is one of the most fulfilling conversations she's ever had. She feels, oddly enough, listened to. Seungwan always had a strange way of making people feel like that, like they were the only person in the world, like all of your troubles were her's, troubles to be faced together. She wonders if everyone who knew her felt like this, wonders if fans listened to Wendy because Wendy listened back. Joohyun was confident that they did.

However, the genie must've gotten too absorbed in her thoughts. Their well-oiled machine falls apart. Seeing Seungwan reach for the next utensil, Joohyun lets go too quickly, the fork slipping through her fingers, meeting the bottom of the metal sink with a clang. 

Joohyun startles, instinctively throws her arms up and covers her face. "Kiyub!"

They stand stunned by the foreign interjection as the metal rings out, the contrary combination of din and silence then pushed out by the sound of Seungwan's laughter. She doubles over, one hand pressed against the counter, still clutching the drying cloth as she claps the other against her thigh like a seal clapping fins.

"Kiyub? What kind of sound is that!"

In the next instant, they're laughing together. In between guffaws and chuckles, Joohyun thinks that if laughter could be music, it would sound like this.

After a gradual recovery, Seungwan reaches into the sink to retrieve the fork, rinsing it off herself and placing it in the rack. Leaning against the counter, she springs a sudden question. 

"Want to take a walk?"

* * *

Joohyun shouldn't have agreed. It was dark, it was cold, it was a strange request. But she was always weak to Seungwan's wishes, and it was her job to grant them after all.

So here they were, taking a walk down to who knows where around 8:00 PM. Well, there was a where, but Joohyun didn't know it. 

"Just where are you taking me, Son Seungwan?"

"It's no fun if it's not a surprise, Bae Joohyun," Seungwan retorts, sticking her tongue out at the genie. "Besides, isn't it nice?" She wraps an arm through Joohyun's, locking them together and sealing their proximity by sliding a hand in her coat pocket.

Joohyun can't help but agree. She doesn't know if it was intentional or a coincidence, but Seungwan had chosen a route that wound them on a street lined with cherry blossom trees. It looked just like the film they had watched earlier, if not more beautiful seeing it in person. But sometimes, it was harder to make out the petals in the dim glow of the street lights, more like isolated patches illuminated by the fluorescent bulbs hanging idly by. She wonders if they went to see them during the day, how they would shine in the sunlight, a sea of rose-tinted mirrors, glimmering in the space above them. 

Part of her thought it was more beautiful this way, just her and Seungwan alone on the near empty sidewalk, shoes stepping along the concrete side by side. More than the flowers, more than the street lights, there were fixtures in the sky. Joohyun craned her head upwards, catching the stray beams of starlight in her eyes.

Seungwan was looking with her, feet coming to a standstill as they gazed together.

There were only a few stars, and often, Joohyun could see them shift, revealing some rather to be planes, dots of alternating green and red weaving across the cloth of the sky.

“Isn’t it funny how these days, the street lights are brighter than the stars?”

“I’ve lived in times when they weren’t.”

Seungwan shuffles her feet, inching slightly closer. “It must have been beautiful.”

“It was. If you focused closely enough, it was almost as if they were moving as you stood.”

In her reminiscence, Joohyun was transported to a field in the swathes of her memory. She leaned back as she did now, staring up into the vast expanse of never-ending light. The stars ebbed like a swarm of fireflies — each planet, each star bioluminescent.

There were so much less now, little flecks of spattered paint on a black canvas.

In the instant that Seungwan tugged Joohyun’s arm to move forward, they sparkled.

And so they kept walking.

Seungwan’s exhale fills the silence. “Sometimes I wish I was an astronomer, you know.”

“Why is that?”

“They have those huge observatories and those huge telescopes. You know, like the Bubble one?”

Joohyun corrects her, “Hubble.”

“Yeah, that.” With her left arm she imitates casting a line, swinging her arm about and pretending it catches hold. “Sometimes, I think it’s like hooking the stars,” She winds an imaginary reel, “Pulling them close enough for you to see.”

Joohyun smiles, thinking of Seungwan flitting about the halls of an observatory, hands paging through records of the last sighting of Halley’s comet instead of plucking chords on her guitar.

The astronomer goes on, “That’s the kind of fishing I would love — star fishing.”

Their short conversation took them to the end of their route, Seungwan unhooking her arm from Joohyun’s.

Not quite the end, actually.

“We’re almost there, it’s just up the hill, but could you close your eyes Joohyun?”

“I don’t think my heart can handle any more surprises today.”

“It’ll be good, I promise,” Seungwan says, holding up crossed fingers as a guarantee before extending a hand for Joohyun to take.

Accepting Seungwan’s hand, her world goes dark, brighter at the same time.

Suddenly, she’s pulled in close to Seungwan’s body, the singer snaking a hand around her waist and holding on tight. Part of Joohyun thinks this was all just an elaborate ruse for more physical contact, not that she was complaining.

Eyes closed, she just had to have full faith that Seungwan would guide her properly. Under usual circumstances, even with her eyes open, Joohyun would've been startled hearing the car engines rumble by or the sound of footsteps nearing from passerbys. Instead, she was more privy to the sensation of warmth as she was tucked into Seungwan's side, enveloped in a scent that was a mixture of spring and vanilla essence. Joohyun did not have synesthesia, but she thinks that if the season had a scent, it smelled like Seungwan's coat, her shoulder, her hair. Maybe it just smelled like Seungwan.

As they walk uphill, Joohyun feels a breeze push past her, tickling her earlobe. It leaves a souvenir for their encounter, dropping a petal on her head. Eyelids shut, she tries her best to brush it off. 

"Don't worry about it, let me get it for you."

In the next second, she feels Seungwan's hot breath on her cheek, straining as she maintains her grip around Joohyun while reaching to brush the petal away. Her hand, like the breeze, is just as light and flighty. In the same amount of time, it was gone.

"Did you get it?" The genie asks.

"Yes, I used magic to make it disappear." 

Joohyun can't see her right now, but something tells her that Seungwan was definitely donning a smug grin, making some strange hand gesture to emulate what she thinks magic must be like. 

"Oh," Seungwan's steps come to a stop. "We're here."

Her arm leaves once again, Joohyun nearly leaning to draw her back in. 

"Open your eyes."

Seungwan stood in front of a large tree, the path they were on ending at the peak of this hill. Its branches spiraled up and outward. The other trees they had seen on the streets could not compare. While they held a flurry, this one was surely a blizzard, surrounding them with pink snowflakes, scattering across the paved floor. It stood in the center, an epicenter of this hurricane. Seungwan was the eye of the storm.

The singer spun with them, generating a wind that swept a few petals along with her. 

"How do you like it?"

Joohyun was too stunned to reply. 

Seungwan smiles. "Too beautiful, isn't it?" She takes her hand, dragging her closer to the concrete barrier that boxed in the tree. "It's not even the best part!" She sits down on the ledge, patting the seat next to her. As Joohyun sits, Seungwan places an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer. Taken by surprise, Joohyun looks at the girl, only to find her admiring the view ahead of them, arm stretched outward, ending with her hand drawn to a point. "Look."

So Joohyun does, confronted with a twinkling landscape sprawling like a tapestry to decorate the end of the sky. 

"Sorry for taking you here when it's dark and kind of cold, but there's no other time to see a view like this."

No apologies were needed. This was more than enough.

Seungwan pressed her head to Joohyun's, trying to approximate her point of view. Once again, she pointed, wanting to show Joohyun the beautiful city they lived in. "Down this hill," She gestured, "Is the street we just walked up. It's a lot steeper than you might've thought." 

She was right. All the way down were trees and buildings, a symbiotic relationship between the synthetic and natural.

"Over there," Seungwan moved her arm to the left, "Is our apartment complex. Usually, now, Mrs. Park, our neighbor, would be bringing her dog back from her post-dinner walk."

It's almost as if Joohyun could see her as she squinted into the distance, neon purple sweatpants shining from miles away.

"But there is my favorite part," Seungwan's finger lands on a shifting band of gray on the edge of the horizon. "It's really hard to make it out, but you can see the sea from here. It's like a photo frame sometimes, a border along this picturesque scenery."

It was clear that the ocean was a long distance from where they were, only taking up a millimeter of Joohyun's vision, barely noticeable. It must've said something about who Seungwan was to have all of these glittering lights shine at her, only to determine that she preferred the bleak, gloomy strip far beyond them.

Joohyun thinks she understands, though. There was something magical about it, a silver seam to bind the sky to the earth. If she pressed her fingers to its edge, thumb and index wrapping around the sea's string — if she pulled, it would all unravel. 

Seungwan was always the one to start the conversation when Joohyun got like this.

"It's like we're in our own movie, right? I'm the protagonist, you're the love interest, and we're smack dab in the middle of a confession scene or something of the same importance." She gets up, tapping her feet along the floor, mapping out an indecipherable routine. 

Joohyun watches her glide by, silhouette struck across the background of the city's glow. Her own grandeur rivaled that of the skyscrapers behind her. "You are a romantic."

"Hmm?" Seungwan's expression morphed to slight confusion, eyebrow pulled upward.

"Earlier today, you asked if you were a romantic," Joohyun says, watching the pink swirls at Seungwan's feet. "I think you are."

"So I _am_ a good protagonist then."

"Didn't I say you were?"

If this were a movie, this would be the part where Joohyun confesses, spilling out her thoughts and emotions, her own blizzard, into the night air. She would spend a whole three minutes giving her explanation of her perspective of the film's events, how her feelings have festered and grown.

But this isn't a movie. Joohyun hasn't yet been casted for the role. Seungwan doesn't think she's a deserving protagonist. The singer begins a monologue anyway, the pavement a stage, an audience of one.

"You're more beautiful than these blossoms. But you've always been more fleeting too. Our time together is so transitory." Her voice is wistful, as it always was during conversations on the balcony, during nighttime talks. If she even could, her voice turned actor, abandoning her history, her assigned role of singer, "So don't leave me. I love you."

Joohyun's eyes are glistening again. Without the glow of the TV screen, Seungwan could tell they were tears. In this moment, she is the leading role, she is the love interest. She recites her lines. "These blossoms will be gone in a week, I'll be gone in a year. If you really love me, let's cherish our time together."

Seungwan stops her quiet dance, steps closer to Joohyun and leans down. "Those aren't the right lines." Warm hand meets her smooth cheek, casting a recurrence of a spell to banish the genie's tears. The magician speaks tenderly, "Why are you crying, Joohyun?"

She closes her eyes, feels Seungwan's thumb gently caress her skin as she returns to her seat. "Do you ever feel like movies get it right? That even though they are fictional and have outlandish scenarios, there's something so hauntingly correct about them?"

Seungwan's silence is its own affirmation, simply continuing her comforting strokes. 

"I can't help but think about the love interest, how she just has to leave even though she loves him too. I asked you- I asked you that if I was that love interest, if you would chase me."

Her master, her singer, her astronomer, her magician, her protagonist, her everything, she nods, she speaks. "Is it just that which is making you cry?"

"No, it's- What if I told you that I had to leave in a year?"

"I'd ask why."

"And what if I were to tell you that at the end of every decade, genies have to go dormant. What if I told you that we have limits, after all, that if we don't, there are consequences? We lose our powers, we return to mortality."

"I would have to accept that you have to go."

"You would have to accept that you can't chase me." 

Seungwan doesn't reply, doesn't know if she agrees, doesn't think to argue against this mystifying, obscure genie corporation that she's never seen, never heard of. She imagines buying a hammer, smashing Irene's vase, freeing her from the life of a genie, from a life of her title.

But said genie goes on, "A year of wishes is enough, isn't it?"

Seungwan would trade away a year more of wishes, a year more of Irene, for a lifetime with Joohyun. She's still flashing through scenarios of what to do, how the vase scenario wouldn't work. They could always just give her a new one, a new prison. Then she'd have to live with the additional shackles from the betrayal of a master she grew to trust.

Seungwan couldn't defy higher powers. She was only a singer, not an astronomer, not a magician, hardly even fit to be a master. All she had was her music. It was not enough to extend their time together. If a thousand songs could give her one more day with Joohyun, she would have already written them all. 

"You've caught me at a bad time, honestly, at the end of this decade. If we had met earlier, perhaps I could've stayed longer. But..." Joohyun pauses, growing silent for a second that drawls out infinitely. "It will be okay. A year is enough. I can still do so much more for you in that time. A year is enough," She repeats, as if to convince herself.

It had to be enough, didn't it? There were no other alternatives. Seungwan stares out at the near empty sky above them. She thinks she catches a shooting star, but what use is there for wishes that can't buy her more time?

She finally responds.

"If a year is enough to relearn existence, it will be enough. We will make it beautiful."

* * *

The song "Day 1" will be released on April 19th, 2019, more than two weeks from now.

Day 1 out of 257 left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm late! I just finished finals, and took a day off to unwind from the hell that this semester was. For anyone else that took finals or midterms, I hope you did well! Hopefully this chapter is long enough to make up for my absence! I hope you didn't miss me too much : P
> 
> I was actually writing this in the middle of finals week, and was planning on having it out earlier, but I accidentally got way too swept up in the plot of the fake movie that I created. The characters actually have decently complex backstories, but they didn't really make it into the story. Even their names didn't make it in! Now I have about 3000 words worth of their story and I'm really bummed that it didn't quite fit. If you're interested, maybe I'll post it later along with a lot of other planning stuff, or do some sort of Q&A! Let me know if that's something you want to see. I have a lot of extra material that doesn't make it in. (I threw everything in my notes into a word counter and it totaled to about 50,000 words, more than I've even written in the story thus far!!)
> 
> Also, oh no, the time limit. I kept meaning to introduce this earlier, but it kept feeling out of place with the other plot events I had. Well, here it is now. Shocking revelation! This fic has been relatively danger and suspense free up to this point, and will very likely continue to be, for the most part, free of external conflict, but what I mean to say is that it's probably going to start picking up a little bit. I guess we'll just have to see how our girls face the situation!
> 
> As just a little complaint unrelated to the story, I have written this entire chapter with the keycap on my 'o' key constantly falling out. I'm ordering a new one, but it is starting to get frustrating for me to type when every time I so much as hit the key at an angle, it decides to pop off. In fact, it popped off three times over the course (now four, with that last word) of typing this author's note. Let's hope the new one gets delivered soon! For Red Velvet and for you lovely readers, I will power through. I won't say I'll see you in the next chapter, because it will be short and posted at the same time as this one, but I will see you in the one after! I promise it'll be interesting : ))
> 
> Also, sorry this author's note went way long, I guess I just had a lot to say. Thanks for getting through it all!!


	13. ...That's What Makes It Beautiful.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Director's Cut: A movie scene of Seungwan's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to "A Little More" by Catie Turner. The song is kind of perfect for this.

_Junghoon was now on the brink of the cliff of adulthood. Seungwan, a year older, was free falling off the edge. Wanting to leave her life in this small town behind, she was on her way to board the next train out, pursue music, a life even, in the big city miles down the tracks._

_And so he ran. He followed the road down, the streets where they had chased each other as kids. Wasn't it funny how he was still chasing her down them? She was always so far ahead of him, now more than ever. Everything for him was here, in this town. His family, his friends, his future. He always thought that included her._

_She must've not thought the same way._ _Her future was elsewhere. Hers included music, lyrics, a love he couldn't offer._

_He weaved through side streets, ducked into alleyway shortcuts, and wound up on the main road leading toward the station. Lining the path were cherry blossom trees in full bloom, none catching his attention as he only centered on thoughts of her. Petals drifted past him as he ran, looking more like smudges of pink paint against the broken canvas of his town than the awe-inspiring beauty they often marveled at on birthday trips to the city. But this move would've been far more permanent than those. He would no longer be by her side._

_Nearing the figure of the girl he loved ascending the steps toward the terminal, his steps felt heavier as he slowed down. His legs were lead, thighs aching as the adrenaline slowly leaves, no longer suppressing the pain of his urgent run._

_Chest heaving, he placed his hands on his knees. Using the last of his breath, he called out, "Seungwan!"_

_She turned toward him, eyebrows raised in surprise. Her expression quickly turned to a smile. "Surprising me on the day before I leave, Junghoon? That's nice of you."_

_But she was confused. Why was he sweating, why was he breathless? She was moved to ask, "Did something happen?"_

_"No, I- I just had to stop you."_

_"Stop me?"_

_His voice was wistful as it always was when he became contemplative, so contrary to his usual reckless demeanor and charming self. She knew him too well, knew that this meant he had something important to say. He was always like this during conversations at the riverside, during nighttime walks._

_If it even could, his voice grew lower, "Do you see these blossoms Seungwan?"_

_She nods._

_"Every year I look forward to your birthday, just to see them with you. If I had known a week ago that you were leaving, I would've kept us there in that moment under the night sky, barely able to make out the petals in the glow of the streetlights."_ _He sighed. "But now you're leaving. I thought that we'd have many more birthdays here together, but our time together is so damn transitory." His shaky breath translated into a shaky voice, unsure as to whether he trembled from his arduous run or the weight of his confession._

_"_ _I want to spend a whole lifetime with you. So don't leave me. I love you."_

_Seungwan inhaled deeply before she responded, choosing her words carefully, delicately. "You know, these blossoms will be gone in a week. I won't be here to see the last of them. I can't stay for you."_

_He looks down, back almost bent lower than it was immediately after his run._

_She continues, "If you really love me, I hope you cherished our time together."_

_"I did." His youth shone through even now, bringing larger fists up to his eyes to rub out tears, provoking memories of the smaller ones he made years ago. He cried a lot less now than he did back then, but he still looked the same to her. Childish younger brother. Partner in crime._

_Her eyes were sympathetic, the twitch of her hands and the quiver of her pupils indicating how much she cared. She broke eye contact, looking out over the line of trees stretching almost endlessly before them. He turns to look with her, wishes he could see from her point of view._

The movie was too similar to what they've been through. In both, the love interest leaves. But here was the difference: reality doesn't have as many happy endings. There was no fated reunion. There was no return. Seungwan had not seen her childhood friend since then.

That was the first time she learned to be scared of love. Though she had always learned that love should be freeing, she had never felt such a strong love be so chaining than she did then.

Oddly enough, the tragedy of their reality, though bittersweet, had a glimmer that even the silver screen lacked.

_Seungwan hoped her final comments could comfort him. "Spring's nature is fleeting. The blossoms are fleeting. Even time is, humanity is -- even me. But though it's transitory..."_

_Junghoon wishes he could walk up the steps to her and pull her in a hug, never let go. But he was rooted to his spot on the sidewalk, still peering over the blossoms lined up like soldiers, their petals like guns pointed at him, reminders of everything he would miss. The only movement he can manage is to shut his eyes, block out the wind and the buildings, block out the train coming down the tracks, block out the voice coming over the loudspeakers calling out the departure._

_The only sound he allows himself to hear is Seungwan's voice, a singular petal drifting into the lonely sidewalk of his heart. He won't sweep it away._

_"Isn't that what makes it beautiful?"_


End file.
